aperitivi

The universe is a giant negroni,
which means we are all either
tumbler, gin, vermouth, Campari
or ice cube, and I don’t know
about you but in the giant assorting
we are soon to be swirled up in
b) we’re gonna need a stiff drink
at the end of days, and a) do you
want to be drained vessel, angry red
headbanger, or transparent lip-
puckerer in this anthology. Let’s
put it like this: come the apocalypse,
also known as being grateful your
aesthetic is ‘short trousers / bare ankles’
where will your florid/panic memory
path take you back to first? Yup –
see you on the Navigli, last one there
picks up the tab, no aperitivi for you.