The Fiery End

My wife, my kids, my livelihood has vanished into the sea; to never be seen again.
My soul weeps at the sight of the promised renewal of my past love.
My tongue monists at the smell of whisky and vodka.
The smells of forgetting weakens my guard of self- control.
The glass lays in wait for the moment my guard wears thin.
The cigarette helps to blow out the remorse.
The Irish in my soul demands the glass.
My soul can no longer fend off the proposal of forgetting.
My throat is grateful of the needed relief.
The glass slips out of my grasp and onto my sweater and cargos.
The pain is enhanced by the soaked clothes.
Anger jolts through my veins.
The bottle of vodka stands there laughing at the situation.
I grasp the bottle; gulping it down.
My mind shutters from the pain.
More gets onto my clothes.
Fuck it!
I pour the remaining vodka onto me.
I soak in the mixture of the whisky and vodka.
The smell eases my soul.
My fingers run through the course grooves of the FDNY lighter.
The flint- wheel winks at me.
My thumb twitches on the wheel.

My heart slows to the beat of the wheel turning…it’s empty.