who was once seedt@rpi.edu wrote:
>----------
>So it's true,
>I'm knocked down drunk again,
>Slobbering over white pages.
>My senses clamor for sense,
>as they deaden further.
>Damn it.  I miss you.
[...]

a response, not directed at the quoted author:


Drunk



Oh, fuck you!  You were drunk when
you broke that bottle against my skull,
the shards slicing my face in a dozen places and
glass grains scattering into my eyes.
     You were drunk when you stumbled in
crying and begging for my forgiveness, and you
were drunk when you beat our son with a rolling
pin. You were drunk when you said, "I'm sorry."  You 
were drunk when you puked on my mother's bed over 
Easter.  You were drunk when your brother refused 
to give a loan, you were drunk when our car stalled 
on I5 to San Diego.  You were drunk on Christmas Eve, 
Thanksgiving, Fourth of July, and Memorial Day.  You were 
drunk while grocery shopping and laundering.  You were drunk 
in the shower, and you were drunk before your morning coffee.
You were drunk while you mowed the lawn on Saturdays, and you 
were drunk while cleaning the kitchen.  You were drunk when 
you took our son to Little League.  You were drunk every 
week during "The Simpsons", "Leave It to Beaver," and 
"The Cosby Show", and you were drunk while we were having sex.  You
were drunk while we transformed our mid-sized cosy home into 
a shot-glass refuge.  

You were drunk a hell of a lot,
and after all that, you tell me how you're
drunk and wondering why I'm not around anymore.



     --jennifer crystal chien