deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Drunks Have it Easy

This is how it goes at 22:27.
Porcelains and plastics stacked up high
eyeing me up from across the room,
but the small flies that look a lot like fleas
havenít come yet so I laugh back.
Iíll do things when Iím good and ready.

When I was a drunk I wondered what sober people did
with their time.
Now Iím sober I wonder what sober people do
with their time.
The drunks have it easy.
You just prop up a bar
or a group of friends
and it means something.
Somehow it feels like progression or success.
The drunker you can be and still stand
the louder the applause.
The easy stuff during the day feels like a battle
the easy stuff during the night feels like a release.
It is a heroís world.

The tough guy drunks,
a little bit older
with leather skin.
Speak with confidence
Everything is okay,
because theyíre only joking.
Funny how they inspire all that awe.
The respect offered at some middle-aged
pisshead like loose change
thrown at beggars on the floor.
The edgy ones who remind us
of our nervous dispositions.

Then thereís he who waits
until absolute saturation
so he can do all the things
he wished he could do,
unaware of the blunderous
fucking state heís in.
The Jekyll and Hyde of it all,
if only the timid stayed that way;
their inhibitions stamped into them
by the meekness of their sobriety.

I used to walk along in this fucking circus.
Three or four different versions of me
climbing out of my clown car
and now, if anyone asks me why I stopped drinking,
I have to file down my answer
until its a lie
because I know how these people get
about what they think means something to them.

Ö

Itís in sobriety that I understand
how successful men take their own lives.
I canít speak for women
because I do not know them well enough.
especially now.
Now I understand what it is to be alone
without that soothing oitment
to make it all feel full of purpose.

Now the polar opposites exist at once
the hopelessness and the possibilities
the philanthropy and the wanting to see it all burn.
the open hand and the fist.
They have always been in the same place.
The fools choose sides and scorn the other.
It is easier that way.

Because sitting here
twenty eight minutes after I started
sitting here
I realise that I am just sitting here
and at times it feels impossible.
But there are moments when it makes sense
just long enough to press on,
but never long enough to know why.


CruelHandedWriter
Written by CruelHandedWriter (Jamie Rhodes)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 8 reading list entries 6
comments 5 reads 141
ImperfectedStone crimsin RevolutionAL javalini Northern_Soul Casted_Runes
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
COMPETITIONS
Today 3:23pm by RevolutionAL
POETRY
Today 3:10pm by Casted_Runes
COMPETITIONS
Today 2:36pm by MaryMadrid
SPEAKEASY
Today 1:31pm by MadameLavender
SPEAKEASY
Today 7:50am by Weak4hissmile