sweet release

back soon you hope

            maybe never

bottles scattered

deep in alcohol’s pockets

            trying this new brand on for size

            as if my throat’s a fitting room –

sloshed?

            I love the word

                        hair mussed    eyes red

                        hands shaking

but at least my head and heart are at home –

I breathe

I gaze at the ceiling

            I go back and forth

            should I have another?

                        actually I mostly go forth

I’m scrunched

I’m sliding

            such a precious haze

the only way I know to be awake

while sleeping

speech a murmur  body a prayer

            but no cause for alarm

                        I’m sparkling

                        really

I had the best teacher

the old man in the photograph

he didn’t know from love

so he taught me to swear

he hated touch

so that’s where drink came in –

such is the revolving drunken door of family

such is the tension

in these tobacco-stained hands

            did I say tobacco?

            sorry dad

            I thought we’d already covered that