just like those walking dead
outside Big Ben’s Liquors
on the corner of North Capitol Street & New York Avenue,
the nation’s capital.
Early morning booze stains, trying to clear the vision—
unable to locate last night thru the fog & fumes.
a bracer on which to build a drinking day.
Nothing’s ignored, just blurred.
It needs to be alcohol … a shot from the bottle.
A jolt to the brain … a direct hit. A jump start.
Oh, we’re describing a disease here—
Look around at all those crushed,
walking over broken glass,
and it’s just before dawn.