FIRST NIGHT IN DETOX by M.J. Arcangelini

(“Everybody’s got to have somebody to look down on.” – Kris Kristofferson)

The junkie and the drunk
sat on opposite sides of 
a small table in the 
seen-better-days kitchen
of the detox house;
dripping faucet,
buckling linoleum floor.
Fighting off the shakes,
leaning into each other 
across the table,
oozing menace,
rocks glasses of lemonade
close at hand,
arguing, 
arguing:

at least I ain’t no fucking drunk
yeah, well at least I ain’t no fucking junkie
yeah, well at least I ain’t no fucking drunk
yeah, well at least I ain’t no fucking junkie

Over and over,
back and forth across
that kitchen table, which
seemed to shrink 
a little bit more with
each slurred assertion,
for at least half that
endless fucking night.

M.J. (Michael Joseph) Arcangelini, born 1952 in western Pennsylvania, has resided in northern California since 1979. He began writing poetry at 11. He has published in a lot of little magazines and online journals, including lilliput: The Ekphrastic Review, The Gasconade Review, Live Nude Poems, As It Ought To Be Magazine, Trailer Park Quarterly, Rusty Truck. his work appears in over a dozen anthologies.  He is the author of five collections: “With Fingers at the Tips of My Words” 2002, Beautiful Dreamer Press, “Room Enough” 2016, “Waiting for the Wind to Rise” 2018, both from NightBallet Press, “What the Night Keeps” 2019, Stubborn Mule Press, and “A Quiet Ghost,” Luchador Press 2020. In 2018 Arcangelini was nominated for a Pushcart Prize