The drunk

[Comfort]

I can still taste you “he said” 

Another drink please

Another escape please, another concussion to help me forget please. 

I can still taste my sins 

Another drink please, 

Another relief to get me close to the reef, I’m trying to drown my… Hmmm 

I can still lie 

Another drink please.

Another way to punish myself, I deserve to suffer, yes

Yes.

Yes.

I deserve another drink please. 

The alcohol whispers like a siren, calling me to the jagged rocks below. 

Another sip hoping I ferment and become something worth swallowing like the truth when I pass. 

Another drink please.

I can almost taste freedom from mine’s self, or is it myself? Hmmm, I can still utter sensible words. 

Another drink please. 

The bottle listens better than… 

Close to confessing it all, the pastor has nothing on Jake Daniel’s… 

Hmmm, words still echo sobriety. Maybe I’ll huff and puff the lingering thoughts away. 

Yes 

Yes 

Yes, 

Another blunt please. I hope to cloud my mind so it doesn’t see direction to my heart. 

Another drink sir? 

Yes, the blunt hugs my lungs but I seek solace that refuses to hold, alcohol loads me or is it loath me? 

Another drink please. I seek to be nowhere yet I’m still here and so

Another drink please

[Susan Katz]

This is a truly intriguing poem – written in a kind of staccato rhythm that is compelling – you just want to keep reading on.  “Another sip hoping I ferment and become something worth swallowing like the truth when I pass.”  This is a great line and the poem, overall, is one that people will want to read and reread.  I know I’ve already read it three times.

Poetry, like life experience, comes in all “shapes and sizes” – you have chosen a particularly interesting form and choice of words and word clusters, to invite us into your feelings and your story.

Thank you so much for sharing.  – Susan

[Author]

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