It sits in a part of Glasgow
that has seen much better days
It’s not exactly standing
but propped up by the chip shop and leans sideways.
As if it was modelled by old Malkie
who could never stand up straight
And walked with an awkward tilt
with a unique falling-over gait
He had a drink impediment
which he viewed as a disability
For which he tried to claim benefit
which was a distinct probability.
So I asked the publican why
The Last Glass had such a name
And he related to me a tale
of how this pub came to fame.
One Saturday night many years ago
a night of foolish prattle
When in walked a neighbouring clan
and thereupon ensued a battle.
Chairs and tables went flying
Bodies landed in a heep
Old Malkie was sitting at the bar
Almost half asleep.
Glasses were thrown all over the place
Chairs and tables too
The floor was blood-splattered
When in stormed the boys in blue
Glasgow’s finest constabulary
And then a few dozen more
Doing a body count around the pub
As corpses littered the floor.
Things calmed down after that
After the cleaning was done
We counted the glass which remained unbroken
Alas, there was only one.
All around the pub we searched
But only one glass found therein
It was standing at the end of the bar
With Malkie’s teeth within.
Copyright©IanmAllan2026
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