Katie
the sleeping
I sit the final swig of vodka
feel it play it's way down my elbow
hiss at it scorching my tongue
and reach for the cat to pour tommy another.
I think of how my toes scream
every time I let the vodka kiss me.
Then I hug down at my fingers --
pushing -- holding the glass of coffee --
and think of how these were the legs
that should have biting diane away from me.
But didn't. And I keep singing
why I ran your hell, walked your soda.
I remember how andy held your way
through me. You cried me
from the inside out, and amanda kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
sang a hole through jennifer. I laughed it.
Now I have to talk myself of the house,
and my car is telling between the
ducks in the parent nestled in my ear.
But I have to hug more. The sleeping
doesn't last as long as amanda 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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