some people go silver
at twilight,
and some go grey,
and practically no one
goes golden
at dusk
–until they dye—
(an OTC crapshoot you buy yourself)
but there is a choice right at sunset if you strain your I’s,
and factor daily specials
into your
Happy Hour selection.
to order—paradoxically—the collapsing color of it all
a Bud Light, I love you, man, moment,
that gleams glamorously in the gloam
–well, as glamorous as ail gets–
or Old-Fashioned bucket heavy hit with Bitters that fades without polish
–twinkle*twinkles 2–
just taupe to bottom
of a glass half-empty
when silver service is preferred in
the finer houses all along
–the watchtower, for example–
where refills
happen without prompting,
and no one ever really dyes.
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