I Drink Alone Now


This wine in my hand once
tasted so good,
especially sharing it
with other sippers,
some guzzlers and
downright drunks.
We were a rowdy bunch,
each giving the other the eye,
scrunchy hugs and even
the occasional surreptitious
squeeze of large muscles
behind the furniture.

I drink alone now,
spilling this swill
that goes down like medicine.
That’s what it’s become,
something that keeps me
merely aslant when
I could easily go horizontal,
like all those empties
you can’t see surrounding me,
kicked over, tripped on vessels
of tinted glass and plastic
that once held promise
and that was all.


3 thoughts on “I Drink Alone Now

  1. As I’ve noted several times in my short writing second-life, once I turn these things loose in the virtual public square, they’re up for interpretation through the eyes, heart and emotional prism of the individual reader. But for once I’d like to make something clear…I’m not a drinker. Never have been. One beer at dinner time. To drink much more is something I cannot allow in my life.

    Thanks for reading and taking to heart my work, though. That’s what this is really about. Now I’ll slip back behind my curtain.

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