Getting drunk alone is like virtue
because it has its own reward
for one thing, you don’t have to put up with any other drunk
who wants to be chummy because you’re under the same table
no, it’s you and only you
and you can forget all that nonsense you thought heretofore
about how low you were
about how you lacked character
about how you betrayed what you believed in
about how you deceived your friends
after a glass or two or three or four
of Napoleon brandy or Old Style Lite
you discover you’re the only person in the world that can tolerate you
because you know exactly how you got here
Paul Smith writes poetry & fiction. He lives in Skokie, Illinois with his wife Flavia. Sometimes he performs poetry at an open mic in Chicago. He believes that brevity is the soul of something he read about once, and whatever that something is or was, it should be cut in half immediately.
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