Ian Li
what spirits need on lonely nights
when the dead clamber
into your candlelit speakeasy,
melancholy etched on blanched faces,
you never turn them away,
for their glimmerless eyes tell you
why they’ve surfaced, why they require
an extra potent concoction tonight.
you unleash the fiery mezcal
distilled from lightning-cooked agave,
uncask the rum spiced with lava-charred cinnamon,
mix in murky bitters imbued with hemlock bark,
garnish it with a scorching phoenix feather.
let it fire them up from within,
bring warmth back to their parched fingertips;
let them forget their death for just one night
and dream of stumbling through life again.
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Ian Li (he/him) is a Chinese Canadian writer and poet, with poetry published in Nightmare Magazine, Small Wonders, and Strange Horizons, among other venues. He also works as an economist, consultant, and developer in Toronto, and he enjoys spreadsheets and brain teasers. Learn more at https://ian-li.com or find him on Bluesky @ianli.bsky.social.
Backstory & Author’s Comments: The dual meanings of the word “spirit” led me to imagine what the dead might drink—and why. I’ve always been fascinated with the clandestine nature of speakeasies, so I had an image of the quiet melancholy of a bartender serving the dead stuck in my head. In my mind, they were seeking something strong to wake them up, to pretend like death was just an affliction they could drink away. And so I made them a cocktail from sharp, fiery, vitalizing ingredients, hoping it would give them a moment of reprieve.
Editor’s Comments and Image Credit: The image was created with the input of “In a candlelit speakeasy fiery mezcal from lightning-cooked agave, rum spiced with lava-charred cinnamon, murky bitters and hemlock bark, garnished with a scorching phoenix feather” to an image generator (Wixel by Wix.com) combined with a ghostly spirit rising in the background (pngtree).