A Connoisseur of Tradition: Drinking in a Bar with Real Glassware. by John Dorroh

The  “V” at the bottom of martini glass,

that’s where the bacterium was trapped;

where his middle finger got stuck in a world

too small to be seen by the naked eye; the “V”

on top of the stem that supports the bulk of the glass,

a structural feat on its own. It amazes me that more

martini glasses don’t break, leaking dangerous bacteria

off of middle fingers into the ducts of eyes to multiply

via binary fission, or mitosis – which is it? –making people

sicker than they usually act

I hate those new stemless wine glasses, curved at the

bottom like a soft three-dimensional elliptical, the shape

reminding me of Russian nesting dolls. I feel cheated,

like having history re-written to please someone who’s

offended by the truth

do I dare choose my bar haunts by the shapes of their stemware?

what if they have really effective happy hours but serve me with

those silly new-age glasses? Is it a matter of pride – or prejudice?

Whether John Dorroh taught any high school science is still up for grabs. However, he managed to show up every morning at 6:45 with at least three lesson plans for a couple of decades.  His poetry can be found in Suisun Valley Review, Dime Show Review, Indigent Press, Sick Lit, Walk Write-up, Red Fez, and many more. He also likes to write short fiction and rants.