There is no glass (a poem)

A new typewriter poem. Minimal editing. I don’t know that it’s any good, but it’s honest—which is what I am always striving for…

Effervescence is not a virtue

That extra kick is the difference
between enjoyment and overindulgence

I know the difference between the two
but some nights I don’t care

Not that I want to be oblivious
I just want enough of a fog to not care—
for a few hours, anyway

Problems are like work:
however heavy the load
there will always be plenty more the next day

Does that mean if I had problems and a job
I’d be twice as miserable?

One does not simply displace the other

Mo’ money, mo’ problems
is what they used to say

No money, big problems
is my experienced take on it

I hated math in high school—
geometry and all those fucking proofs
so I’m not so keen on the arithmetic now

And I couldn’t get through BASIC programming in college
so I have no interest in whatever algorithm
they happen to be using now

I want the problem to be solved
and for me to come out on the winning side

For now, it’s a good thing I don’t like the hard stuff
I don’t think they make anything strong enough
to wipe out the stuff I don’t want to think about
and my hard drive is dying off faster than my brain cells
even with alcoholic assistance

Besides, I insist on still drinking from a glass
despite having rid myself of wine glasses some months back

I think it’s more a matter of pacing than of propriety
because who’s gonna know?

Empty calories are empty calories
whether cheap saltines or white wine

Which do you choose?

I am empty today:
No words
No ideas
No destination
No fun

My mind wanders, finding only distraction
successful enough to keep me from saying everything I want to say
and enough for me to look at the clock
and find the day almost gone
almost without noticing

And that was before I bought the bottle of wine

This emptiness is mine

This heavy burden of silence and hesitation
and things I end up doing before I can bring myself to stop
and the time gone by while I was distracted
by my wandering mind
are all of them mine

This thing we get only one shot at
is clearly wasted on me

I’m two-thirds in and still just getting started

There’s no chance of me leaving early
’cause I don’t want to miss any of the good stuff

But I’d really like to know how much longer it will be
because I want to go out on a high note, a good feeling
not crumpled in a heap at the bottom of the stairs…

(13 May 2018)