Four Roses in my glass tonight and it tastes like
forbidden kisses from the past; tonight, of all nights,
the ghosts are back, and there’s one whispering in my
ear all day long: get drunk, stay drunk, become what you used to be.
I can’t. I’ve tried.
I’m losing sight of the Edge. but the fourth Four Roses brings
back something I’ve been missing; clarity.
I need to focus, need to get a grasp of reality again, find
the meaning I lost in the syringe that ended everything.
without the needle and the spoon I’ve been meandering around
the streets like a confused ghost not understanding what the white light’s for.
without Emily, I’ve been aimlessly peregrinating the pathways of algid passion
and frigid kisses under sterile fluorescent lights.
playing dice with the Devil again, as we trade shots of Patron and Jack Daniels.
no matter how hard I try, I always win; we polish off a joint and he reassures me
Emily’s doing very well indeed. in my inebriation I smile, knowing that
everything will be gone come hangover.
for a few superlatively intoxicated hours, however, I’m alive and she is
too, sitting right next to me as I gamble away whatever’s left of my sanity.
George Gad Economou has a Master’s degree in Philosophy of Science, currently works as a freelance writer, and has published three novels and two poetry collections, with the latest being his horror novel, The Lair of Sinful Angels (Translucent Eyes Press). His words have also appeared in Spillwords Press, Ariel Chart, Cajun Mutt Press, Fixator Press, Horror Sleaze Trash, Outcast Press, The Piker Press, The Beatnik Cowboy, The Rye Whiskey Review, and Modern Drunkard Magazine.
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