Wednesday, February 4, 2015

poem of the day 02.04.15

sobriety is

my wife isn’t drinking during the week
while she’s getting her biopsies and MRIs

i cut out the hard liquor
and am relegated to the abyss of wine and beer

oh, poor me
afloat on two drinks a night and nothing else

sobriety is a motherfucker

but the first thing the doctor harped on
was how much that she and i drank

she said one drink a night is fine
but there might be a link
between excessive drinking and…

i didn’t hear the rest because that’s when i started crying

it’s strange to reevaluate your life
while some doctor is feeling your wife’s breasts and armpits
looking for lumps and swollen lymph nodes

five scotches a night
five scotches and a magnum bottle of red
friday through sunday
and rivers of beer at the ready at all times

sobriety is a hard concept

but so is discussing lumpectomies and mastectomies
as if they were curtains to buy or next year’s vacation destination

taking a break from reading that novel
only to find that your wife has been crying on the couch
for the whole hour

and it is your job to make her feel better
when you have a headache and can’t even feel good yourself

sobriety is an illusion

it is me thinking that we’ll just go back
to the same behavior once this is all said and done

cancer like getting a tooth pulled
or a car inspected and road ready

it’s me telling my wife that she’s going to survive

sobriety is a noose

because there will be no vacation from this
it’ll end but it’ll always be there looming in the background
for the rest of our lives

shit cramps and kid fears
with every mammogram coming down the line

these nights of tea sipping to symphonies
it’s the new norm

we might as well join a bowling league
or make friends with the new neighbors

sobriety is a black hole

that i’ve been trying to escape for years now
and it’s brought us nowhere but here

under these fluorescent lights
in this tan examining room

drained and tired and shot to shit
waiting to hear what that the prognosis is


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