Guest poem sent in by "Sandeep Bhadra"
If we were going to have a theme about drinks in general, this one certainly deserves mention. This poem is typical of Dorothy Parker's aesthetic -- crisp lines, to be meant for the dead-pan delivery of the truly blasé with very little room for emotion or the pretence thereof. She makes no apology for the love of her drink or for the consequences of binging on it. She merely states the outcomes with the cold preciseness of a scientist, or, at the very least, of an urban realist. Decadent, self-aware and witty, Dorothy Parker's elite Manhattan social circle included playwright George Kaufman and New Yorker founder Harold Ross. They held many of their meetings at the Algonquin Hotel in New York, which now offers a $10,000 martini, presumably in her honor. The Algonquin also has this ode on all their napkins, in fond memory of their distinguished patron. Sandeep [Martin adds] Wikiquotes at least lists this as "attributed" to Dorothy Parker - does anyone know for sure? It definitely sounds like authentic Parker to me. martin