They Are (from “The English Teacher”)
They Are
There are thinkers and
drinkers. Some are both. The
thinking calls the other
it says..
“My life stood a loaded gun”
Certainly when the roof
is caving in and out there is
nothing to do but wait
as the edge edges closer—
One shot for my poor heart,
two for what remains after
the gun drops still smoking.
They are happy about nothing.
Often I am them. And my
pain complains and I have a
whiskey sour for a friend who
died a bitter death too early.
And another for my grandma’s
bad back, a few for my mother’s
seizure and swollen pancreas, and
another for those who haven’t
discovered the importance of status.
These problems are all 2 for 1, and 1 for
2, and absorbed into the liver as
consequence to action or reaction.
And the hour is no longer happy.
The heart a little bit more heavy; my
eyes a little soggy. Yet, there’s
another special tomorrow.
(Another shot. Bang.)
3.2.08
