—I'VE GOT A PROBLEM EVEN ALCOHOL CAN'T SOLVE 

flute

words

fall hard

on me

code red

most times

bursting chandeliers

champagne flutes

busting through

the thin

lake ice like

an abrupt

t.k.o.

everyone sees

coming

but me

so thanks

for that last

uppercut

to the throat

because prior

i’d been

eating /

thinking /

drinking /

too much

or else

too less

and now

it’s problematic

to swallow

anything

at all

even my

stingy pride

and yeah

i’ve a few

more pounds

to shed

before i

bury

these tedious

bones

for good

perhaps i’m

an imposter

after all  

as you say

the lame

broken head

on a four-poster

corner bed

you tell me

please

please

sometimes you

see yourself

in someone

else’s fogged-up

breath and

it can be

bliss

or sometimes

it just makes

you feel

like less

than what you

hardly think

you are

so

bottom’s up

this drink’s

gonna sting /

on me /

for you /

who knows

where it’s

gonna land