Having a Problem
Evidence: my esophagus a scorched field,
my stomach drowned men by the dozen.
my head a zeppelin flaring,
my eyes that of a man with a month in the hole.
my elbows prize fighters in their twilight years,
my knees child-dirty, my words my own language.
I construct a mannequin from Vodka fifths
and used Nicorette gum. I make a bet with myself
as to who will fall first. I lose.
I promise myself I’ll quit three and a half years ago. Make it four.