I wake up in my own vomit –
It’s on my shirt - it is all over much of my pants
and all over the floor around me –
it’s beneath me – I’ve been laying in it all night -
I wake up in my own vomit because that is what I do now
It is who I’ve become…
I’m lying in my living room floor face down and don’t remember coming home
“Fucking Hell”, I say aloud to a room empty, other than me –
I don’t even have a dog…
The motherfucking next-morning mirror doesn’t lie –
I look like fucking shit – my reflection is an advertisement for being a fucking loser –
I am not mis-categorizing myself – I know what I am
____
“Another pint, love?”, I say to the bartender –
She looks at me with a sideways glance –
“Just one more, love” I say – “then I’ll be on my way” –
She smiles and I tip her a fiver
As a boy I played with tiny cars –
metal, some of the doors opened –
and I played with trucks –
trucks that went over sand and mud in the backyard –
I played trucks and cars with my dad –
He died a few years ago
– we didn’t speak for years – but he tried – he did his best –
I have no remaining ill-feelings towards him –
he tried. and I loved him, I suppose –
it’s what we do, I think
“Last call” the bartender announces to the few of us left…
I walk home slowly because the world seems a bit of a blur –
Tomorrow I’ll wake up to a spinning room – I’ll wake up to vomit –
because that is what I do now – that is who I am –
and I’m okay with that – I’ve come to terms with it
____
“I wish your life was better”, the man says – and I can barely hear him…
“I’m okay mate”, I respond as I try to get up from the sidewalk – and I’m squinting because the morning sun is fucking bright as fuck –
“I’ll take you home”, he says – “what is your address?”
“Cheers”, I say – and this is the last memory I have until I wake in my bed
It’s a fucking workday – I’m late, but I make it…
My boss is all up in her tits and I don’t know how to respond –
“Fucking hell”, I say – and it doesn’t go over well –
An early day home for using profanity at work – I’m okay with that –
I stop by the mini-market for a bottle – no, I stop by the mini-market for 2
“I fucking got this”, I tell myself aloud as I walk home
“life isn’t fucking shit”, I say aloud – and I’m not convincing anyone…
____
The neighbor’s dog is fucking loud as fuck in the morning –
barking like fucking titties in a fucking twist –
“Shut up”, I respond – “shut the motherfuck up”, I say –
– and the dog continues to bark…
“I need a fucking drink” I say aloud
It’s Thursday, and I’m sober until the end of the workday –
On my way home I stop at the pub –
“A double”, I say as I pull bills from my pocket –
“A double?”, the bartender asks, as she looks at me like she’s worried
“I’m okay, love”, I respond to a question that wasn’t asked
I light a cig and look out the pub window as if there is a purpose to look out the window
____
“It’s because I’ve got a big motherfucking dick” I say to the small congregation around the bar
“That’s it!”, the bartender says as she escorts me to the front door –
“I can’t help that I’ve got a big motherfucking dick”, I slur –
she smiles at me like she’s empathizing with a dog –
“Okay”, I say – and, then, I stumble home
Because that is what I do nowadays
It is who I’ve become
____
It’s 4:00 pm and I’m off work early for appearing intoxicated on the job –
“I’ll have a double”, I tell the bartender –
She looks at me, hesitantly, and smiles –
“Okay”, she says – “one, and then you go home…”
“Yeah, one”, I say – and I almost hold to my commitment
It would be different now if he had breathed –
So different now if his breath hadn’t stopped –
If I didn’t see my newborn son turning blue…
And have to watch his mother fall apart as I was falling apart –
If he was still with us…
If only he was still here –
Fucking hell. Fucking fuck all of it.
Fucking fuck it – fuck all of it
He isn’t here anymore – she isn’t here any longer –
Why? Just why?
“A second one, love?”, I ask – and she pours me a second with an empathetic grin…
She smiles at me – and it’s the highlight of my day
____
Sometimes there is nothing a man can do –
Sometimes the way things are – are the way things are –
A fucking short draw of the fucking straw
I watched his face turn blue…
“A double”, I request – and she smiles and prepares my drink –
“You be careful”, she suggests – and I tell her I will be –
“An’ no more talkin’ about your knob to the other customers, eh?”, she follows with a smile
“Yeah, I can do that”, I reply
There will be vomit on my shirt tonight – and on my pants –
and all over my wooden floors -
If I remember how I got home, I’ll be lucky –
And I don’t care – I don’t really fucking care –
His face turned blue – and he died – and she left me
It’s who I am –
It’s what I’ve become
It is what I’ve become –
And that is just how it is
