you, the god damning drunk…

you, the god damning drunk
(are not very eloquent) 

would you hear me out,
if all i ask is for something small,
would it even matter if..
all i ask is for one day without the thirst,
one day without waking up thinking 
about that desire for the drink 
that steadily thrives into a must.

if you would grant me that one wish,
so that i may own that one day,
i’d use it to arrange myself straight,
save whatever aches I must endure.
i’d gather up all my ducks first,
save whatever damage their pecking ensues.
i’d gather all my shit into one corner,
save whatever stench I couldn’t wash away.
if you would grant me that one wish,
i’d stop wasting, if only for one day
i’d stop wanting.

but that’s not possible, 
even if you could, i doubt you would;
lest i find my own damn way 
out of the dark..

ya know what, fuck you, 
for letting me entertain this idea,
for letting me be tonight’s entertainment,
with my drunkards jig, 
and my equally sillier speech..
yes, i may be saying this with a slur,
but my meaning still rings through.

yeah, so, fuck you 
for replying with your silence
as heavy as a look in the mirror..
because i know what it means
without having to know what it means..
(cuz’ this pain has to mean something,
right?)

yea, so fuck you,
you, the god damning drunk,
who needs to sleep it off.

\\08-17-06
M. L. Michael 

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