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A Poem?

March 4th, 2005

In the cold pre-dawn light
I look for warmth in a bottle of gin
Groping for that one last rush
You know it, the one that tells you
Everything’s all right,
And you can be yourself
Because the world’s not judging
And nobody’s watching
And you can pass gas in peace.

Used to be I never drank
Not when I’m sad anyway
But I had the company of friends, then
Friends I drove away
For the fleeting smile of an angel
Who doesn’t think of me kindly
Not anymore, anyway
So now I just take a swig.

I lose myself in my craft,
Passion, art, whatever
My fingers don’t do justice
To the chorus in my head, though
Much less the symphony of my soul.
It troubles me, this failing
I’ve no offering save this, the soil I tend
And I dread the fate of Caine.

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