"I am hearing poetry when awake, dreaming poetry when asleep, breathing poetry with each breath, I am living in a poem."

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Drinking His Choice


She is the last drink
swirling in his glass.
The night proved too short,
his options sparse,
so he was drinking his choice
to the bottom of his glass.

Hell, he isn’t much of a catch either,
married twice, five kids that
don’t speak to him---
a broken down life lived
in a whiskey bottle.

The woman was looking better
through his dizzy eyes,
maybe the two of them
could add up to half of something.
With a gallant stumble he takes her arm
and mutters, “Your place or mine?”



©Susie Clevenger 2012

4 comments :

Thinking said...

hmm...nice...

Fireblossom said...

Yeesh. Not exactly Wuthering Heights, are they?!

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Oh, sad. Two adding up to half of something.

Brian Miller said...

ugh...and when they both wake up, what will they really have but a headache and a few more regrets to carry...

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