Sunday, January 8, 2012

All That Glitters...

Am I less than forget? Am I fear? Am I bread, unbuttered, dropped on some psychiatric floor? Am I manners? Mannerisms? Is this all that is left when the alcohol is taken out? Omitted. Dignity omitted. Dignity, that ugly shoe. Is that the only thing left hanging over my head like a hangman's noose? Stolen, lost, broken. None or one or three hot meals and a cot. In too many hospitals that have names and some that don't or didn't or can't or won't. Vagabond burner of memories. Bunsen burner, some bum burned. My old memory is gone. Asleep or awake, it's the same disaster. Visionary, double-visionary,
...Is Not Gold.
disaster.
Crippled by alcohol. I am crippled.
No monologue, no dialogue. Dead, but not dead.
from All Drinking Aside: The Destruction, Deconstruction and Reconstruction of An Alcoholic Animal, Chapter 59 (Rough Draft)

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