Locked behind glass doors and a number pad,
secure on the fourth floor,
awaiting your bottle service.
I didn’t bother to check what you ordered
because what’s the point?
I have a pauper’s palate for grandpa’s lager,
a Cutty & soda for those long nights out.
They say wine is for those with taste,
so what is your flavor?
Do you come on strong with a smooth finish?
Perhaps there’s a bitter hint
beneath all that sweetness?
Do you rely on the old man’s money
or is the sweet life just a bitch, girl?
The Follies of a Postmodern Xennial 