Koozies keep the beer cold
They keep your hand warm
And your beer cold
Which is nice
When most thing are more complicated
Or more intricately disappointing

I find little to do
Besides stare from one screen to the next
And back and back again
Rechecking the same websites
The same hiss of the tab being popped

Sitting in one room
While thinking of many rooms
None of it really makes any sense
This inherited feeling of unease
Wanting just to be close to you
To actually kiss you
Meaning it
Having some feeling behind something

Not wanting to rush from one thing to the next
Just wanting to be stuck in that one moment with you
Tasting your saliva
Feeling your tongue, probing
Like some rogue octopus tentacle

There is nothing that fills the hollowness
Like you  
You are the echoing clatter of pebbles
Thrown down a dark ravine
Replacing space with substance
One haphazard toss
After another

The handshake comes much quicker
Than it used to in the days
When he held his liquor better
Those times are far away
"Let me shake you by the hand"
he'd bellow in the bar
But, now his grip is weaker
Than it once had been, by far
He used to drink 'till closing
Now, two beers and he is done
He no longer knows his limit
He no longer drinks for fun
The drinks control his shaking
Keep him centered, full of hate
Once he shakes you by the hand
It means things aren't so great
He squeezes hard to make you hurt
Trying to show what he once was
But it only shows his smallness
It accentuates his flaws
Mr "Let me shake you by the hand"
Is in every bar we know
He's quiet when he gets there
But he's loud when time to go
He no longer rules the table
He's just an old drunk in the back
He used to be the favorite
He no longer has that knack
He'll always be a little man
He'll never look you in the eye
Mr. "Let me shake you by the hand"
Will be the same until he dies
In his mind he's full of power
But his body shows what's real
A strong wind would break this man in half
I can't guess how his wife feels
Two beers can change his being
From someone pleasant to an ***
"Mr. Let me shake you by the hand"
gets drunk and turns quite crass
If you ever go out drinking
And your evening is planned
Leave...and in a hurry
If you hear ...."shake your hand."

back when summertime
sadness was hip.
beating hearts felt like butterflies
trapped in a plastic water
bottle trying their hardest
to get out and bodies of water
that were frighteningly black but as clear as
broken glass and
worn down cowboy boots
and perfectly fragmented
scarlet and burnt orange
canyons
and crushed
beer cans by the firepit
and isolation and
inescapable infatuation.
the world was so beautiful and
almost ethereal but it wasn't
familiar. like it had been
taken apart and put back
together differently than before.

-*z. vega

You've made no effort
For me
But every effort to lift a bottle to your ******* mouth.

I love you
Im sorry
I miss you
Do not act as a get out of jail free.

You've sullied
Longing
Remorse
And affection.

You've made me the thing
You never wanted me to be
By never choosing me
Over superfluous drinks.

Hangovers
Tummy aches
Early starts
Never get in the way of you
And the thing that matters most.

If only I were on tap,
But I'm not the right blend.

Peachy ****,
lipstick prints on necks
of boys.
No,
of bottles.

Alcohol leaves me puffy-eyed,
& so do the boys,
& if both are the same
I choose bottles, readily
available for only me.

At long last summer is here,
Time to lounge in the garden
And then have a beer.

My porch is boiling,
Have opened my front door.
No more Winter toiling,
This sun I do adore.

The bees are busy buzzing,
They’ve got a lot to do.
Those flowers they still are budding,
And there’s a lazy-rhyme for you.

Ready for your mid-year hollies?
You bet I am, you say.
Ice cream and lollies,
You’ll soon be on your way.

The beach will sure get busy,
No parking on the prom.
Lemonade so fizzy,
Going down like a bomb.

Great time for walking,
Out in the countryside.
Lots of time for talking
Or going for a ride.

My favourite cove awaits me.
A time to really chill out.
It really will be stress-free,
Time to have a scout.

Yes I really love summer,
That’s all I have to say.
Time to be a newcomer:
I’m on my way.

Paul Butters

The palms of my hands
Haven't forgot your touch
Your laughter still rings
Gentle echos in my mind
The look in your eyes
When I catch you looking
I look forward to
Creating those moments again