At Least I Started Drinking Diet
I’m sick.
I don’t remember
if I have told you that yet.
Poisoned, really,
from the moment of my birth
and
I ain’t been doing myself much good since then.
Doctor says the coffee is killing my kidneys;
the coffee…
and the soda…
and the alcohol too
I guess.
I got that one from my father,
the alcoholism,
after mama left me with the big sad.
This discontent for the world, though?
That's my own.
Built that shit with my
hands–
masoluemed it around my body too young.
And
I’ve been looking for a way out ever since.
That is how I got here at the top of this mountain.
The alpine lake outstretched in front of me
untouched.
A great beast in the distance bends his head into the water as if to say drink child–
so I do.
I throw my body off the edge and collide with the surface of the unmoving water.
I sink.
When I resurface
I am at the bar again
with an espresso martini, a Diet Coke, and a shot of Rumplemintz
Looking at the bartender, Lauren, for rescue from this man
who will not leave me alone.
You’re reading at the bar? He asks.
It is the only time
I have another shot.
I grab another brick, another brick, another brick
until it is dark.
The light returns, and there is a doctor saying
I should drink less
says I should manage my stress better
and
I laugh
my father’s laugh
full-bellied until
my sides hurt again
Originally published in Wailing and Gnashing: https://www.wailingandgnashing.com/
