The Haunted Liquor Cabinet

Joseph V. Danoski

Well I’ve acquired an antique liquor cabinet;

But it’s not just bottled spirits that inhabit it.

The dealer told me it’s at least a hundred years old;

Handing over the keys as he quickly marked it “sold.”

Its gothic design recalls an old movie theater;

Days of Hollywood from the golden silent era.

Georgian style legs like from an ancient four-post bed;

Interior lined with leather of Moroccan red.

Sometimes it creaks at night and doors open by themselves;

Revealing shadowy bottles and glasses on shelves.

There’s a ghost who appears and joins my party of one;

My grinning host who says “cheers”

And asks me, “one and done?”

I’ll have my first dance with Brandy, then her sister Gin;

Perhaps a Scotch or some Absinth with a splash of sin.

True friends will never shut you off nor call the last call;

When the genie in the bottle is belle of the ball.

Well it seems I’ve acquired an unwanted habit;

Being bitten by the mad dog and rabid rabbit.

Now I inhabit a haunted house and habitat;

My happy home’s the cabinet--well imagine that!

Always fully stocked with bottles that never run dry;

The Bourbon ever flowing in eternal supply.

I’ve inherited a haunted liquor cabinet;

Now I’m just one of the spirits

That inhabit it.