Mixing By Robert Thomas

The shaker top is twisted away

Metallic foreshadowing whirl

The shaker was lifted

With mock deliberation

From a rank of shakers

Polymorphous and slick

Give me cold!

From its dark frozen nest

I dig out a flask

Of thick freezing gin

Wrench it right out

Admire its patina

That it grew while it nested

That numbs the fingers

Now to move quickly -

A handful of cubes

Plucked from the bucket

A neat retro ice bucket

Insouciantly tumbled 

That distinctive sharp cackle

Into the shaker

The awaiting shaker

Followed close on

From a right-proper jigger

By four parts of gin

Thick freezing elixir

Two halves of a lemon 

Compressed with numb fingers

Two parts of Vermouth

Cold French dry Vermouth

Two parts of Cacao

White and not dark

Seal the shaker

And abuse the air

In confident rigour

With ice-cracking metal

Ice tumbling and crashing 

That back-and-forth smashing -

The shaker then forming

Its own cold patina

Give me cold!

My darling nearby

Thirsty and waiting

I twist off the cap

Fill two frozen glasses

Shake out the last drop

Make a thin flow of ice

Herbal

Fruity

Sweet

Sour

Rich

Cold

Numbing

Gone

... shall I mix another?

Robert Thomas writes poetry and short stories and is currently working on an alternative history novel. His poetry has appeared in Paper Plates, Autumn Sky Poetry, Witcraft and Panoply, and his fiction in The Mythic Circle, Dark Horses and Fabula Argentea. He also likes camping and canoeing and cooking. His published works can be found at robertthomasauthor.com.