Painting a Party

A pair of lips,

Unsullied by the taste

Of what’s known as

Liquid courage,

Interlock with the lips

Of a bottle

Filled with pop.

I keep the label toward me

And grip the neck like a pro.

Do my friends know?

Can they see?

FADING, FADing, fading…

Inhibitions wander,

And paint hits the canvas.

In one corner,

The colors engulf each other,

Revealing two lovers,

Their form and bodies sloppy.

A critic pipes up,

“Ah, what beauty!

Classic young love!”

Corner two has clouds,

Endless clouds of smoke.

The grey blends into green,

Becoming a seven-veined leaf

In someone’s firm grasp.

“Fantastic!

Desire at its most elementary!”

The smoke travels to corner three,

Where it encircles

Three shot glasses

With writhing faces on them.

“Hilarious!

The artist has captured