ETHERS
I count of the clicks
of aluminum welds
until the cap gives up.
Oaken vapors uncoil.
At 14, I started with rum.
Later, bourbon; the smell,
the currents it formed
when mixed with water over rocks.
One drink would hide me,
not smart enough, not good enough,
not enough.
That last night, drink in one hand,
smoke in the other,
I am sure I was astute,
maybe even witty.
I stumbled home.
I lay naked on the bathroom floor
all that erudition coming up in waves.
Sweat puddles on my skin.
Wild Turkey slides smooth
from the bottle like a cobra
from the tipped basket.
