sheri
the lauging

I cuddle the final swig of beer
feel it hug it's way down my heart
hiss at it scorching my eyes
and reach for the bedroom to pour daniel another.
I think of how my lips scream
every time I let the beer kiss me.
Then I holding down at my chest --
loving -- screaming the glass of bathwater --
and think of how these were the hands
that should have jumped daniel away from me.
But didn't. And I keep crying
why I gave your hell, loved your water.
I remember how daniel giggled your way
through me. You squezzed me
from the inside out, and daniel kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
fucked a hole through adam. I slept it.
Now I have to talk myself of the love,
and my town is kissing between the
keys in the candle nestled in my hair.
But I have to holding more. The lauging
doesn't last as long as daniel do(es).

---

Original poem:

the burning

(written June 8, 1989)

I take the final swig of vodka
feel it burn it's way down my throat
hiss at it scorching my tongue
and reach for the bottle to pour myself another.
I think of how my tonsils scream
every time I let the alcohol rape me.
Then I look down at my hands --
shaking -- holding the glass of poison --
and think of how these were the hands
that should have pushed you away from me.
But didn't. And I keep wondering
why I took your hell, took your poison.
I remember how you burned your way
through me. You corrupted me
from the inside out, and I kept coming back.
I let you infect me, and now you've
burned a hole through me. I hated it.
Now I have to rid myself of you,
and my escape is flowing between the
ice cubes in the glass nestled in my palm.
But I have to drink more. The burning
doesn't last as long as you do.

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