The following poem was originally written in 1994 when Tequila Gold was my poison of choice. I have been sober for fifteen years, this coming September 11.
wake up/if i can
rolling over/from one dead
day/into the next
my mouth
a dirt-filled trench/
shoveled with/bad vices

an empty fifth/evidence
the gold bottle cap/spilled
across the room/
the stained paper bag/
at the edge/of the bed
my aching body/aching
screaming/
STOP IT/I’M KILLING ME/

tequila gold/
burning fire/
drunk maker/
liver sodomizer/
what a head/ache
when i wake up/
if i can.
9/24/1994

Leave a Reply