On the knocks.
I take them
slowly,
on the rocks
drink them swiftly,
let them trickle
away.

Like taking a bite from the night
and tasting each day
like it might be
some
poisoned apple,
grappling with this, who'd
want to kiss
a witch?
who might be
the tree from which
all things will spring.

On the knocks or on the rocks,
over easy
just to please me.

Feeding the ego,
a tiger on nitro' or
a bird in
the hedgerow?

Einstein hands me a relative,
a way to forget the negative.
I give him a big hand for that.

Catching bubbles which bubble within me,
to burst on the walls of adversity
where heat rises as
if this life's a chimney
and I am the one
being smoked.