A Dipsomaniac's Drought Of Rational Thought

It has been a dry couple of days
Drinking anything but water or beer
Seems unsatisfying to me
Four days ago I had my last drink of rum
The ice had melted and it was watered down
I guzzled it and shook my head with disgust
And I haven't touched another drop
I don't know what it is about its taste
It never bothered me before
One day I was loving it
The next day I abhorred
Just the smell of it from afar
I remember how I used to wait
Till three before I'd take a drink
I don't remember when it became
That I was thirsty before noon
I worked well with it next to me
In me
Speaking for me
Kissing my wife
At first it was my friend
Then it moved in with me for good
Spending my money and my time as if
It was owed
Stealing my life and my looks
As if they were foregone
Lying to me about my rage
I became like a fly trapped in a glass
Too drunk to climb up and out
Let alone fly away
It seeped deep into my soul
And threw out my dignity
Along with my will to live
It piled my clothes on the floor
Then it hid my comb and brush
Refusing to show me my mirror
Waiting to take my picture
When my eyes were shut
Hell it even started driving me home from work
Running red lights then slamming on the brakes
Laughing at me as I would flash the finger
To the morons on the road with me
Thinking somehow they had weaved into my lane
My life
My last breath.....
Oh yes....that last breath
Spent staring at that provocateur
Lying next to my trigger finger
Wondering about the pain I would feel
When the bullet entered my brain
Taking another drink of rum
As insurance that it would pay double indemnity
Wishing not to destroy my dental records
But only to divorce myself of this liquid lady
Whose beauty was intoxicatingly deadly
It has been a dry couple of days
Since I felt the need to wet my lips.....

2007 © T Sheridan

by Ted Sheridan

Comments (3)

For me this poem has a personal meaning, but even so, if that were not the case it would still be an excellent poem. The bathos of the approach is wonderful, there is no griping, the piece is delivered almost in a deadpan manner, allowing the reader to contemplate it rather than simply reaching a conclusion about it and moving onto the next.
Ted, what a totally brilliant title for an inspired piece.... I won't ask how inspired. Sandra's right of course about your way with words. Anyway, you taught me a new one, therefore I love you. t x
Very compelling. You have a way with words. Take care. Kind regards, Sandra