Extreme Unction

Photo: Lig Ynnek. CC-BY-NC-ND

I went roaming late that night
Met empty forlorn bottles
Scattered down the alleyways
Some broken or discarded

Many had a short story
And those spoke twisted tales
Voiced imperfect harmony
A jug band of tight brothers

Some labels looked familiar
Like faces from a past life
The ones who could not make it
With others who did not care

The bottles sniffed me over
Smelled more than I bargained for
An alley pricked will then pick
When it is too late to run

Aching to find some meaning
Can’t live by cliché alone
Although if hungry enough
It can make a hearty meal

I begged a benediction
New epistles ride our rails
Bygone boasts of bright champagne
Are now the pains of anguish

Deliver us from evil
Deliver us from ourselves