Cocktails with flowers
I’d say that’s the way to go

I look around

Christmas lights
Shopping bags
Forks and knifes in pretend tins
Black boards in pretend handwriting

This flower is real
Swimming in my pretend elixir:
infused tea gin.

Enthusiastic chat
Air kisses
Pretend romance hairdos
Feet in pretend power shoes

But this flower is real
Floating in my pretend fun evening
Energising my pretend self-sufficient grin

Perhaps none of us are pretending.
Even the fake utilitarian tins
in this fashionable down-to-earth theatre of a bar
have a right to reality
A right to exist

Let’s all become
with flowers

Are they pretentious?

Oh, spare the flowers
They can’t pretend

I am this jolly drunk flower.
Let me just be.