Tuesday, June 18, 2019

Sigourney Weaver, Two Excedrin, and My Brother Todd by Michael Estabrook

Drunk one more time
in honor of Charles Bukowski:
alone in my
favorite chair watching
ALIENS on TV (envisioning
Sigourney Weaver wearing only
her panties
here in the room with me)
drinking wine and sherry
by the glassfull
to forget about every damn
thing for a little while
and I did but had a
bad dream (a rockwall
blocking the road in front
of the house
wriggling snakes all over
the place).
Didn't wake up with
a hangover though because
I took two Excedrin before
going to bed an old trick
I learned from my
brother Todd.





Michael Estabrook small press poet since the 1980s striving always for greater clarity and concision rendering language more succinct and precise more accessible and appealing a Sisyphean adventure for sure. Retired now writing more and working more outside just noticed two Cooper’s hawks staked out in the yard or rather above it which explains the nerve-wracked chipmunks. The Poet’s Curse, A Miscellany is a recent collection (The Poetry Box, 2019).


No comments:

Post a Comment

Improv with Whiskey & Cars by Linda Bryant

That night, a broken axle, sticks inside me, sweet burnt odor of bourbon & Marlboros. Drunk on Wild Turkey, Mama cussed Daddy out, my si...