poem of the day 07.26.10

scotch

you take a hit on
the first one
after all those
missing months
trying to keep away
from the stuff
fooling yourself
with cheap beer
and jug wine
you take the hit
examine the sweating glass
let the ice cubes
clink again
like playing piano
on an old familiar
song
and think
i’ve missed this
simple kind of bliss
more than i’ve
missed most
of the people
in my life
upon the second hit
you’re damned sure of it
and a little bit sad too.