Apr 2020
{HOWL inspired, a rip off}.
I saw the worst alcoholics of my recovery group return from INSANITY… beaten down at the battle grounds of *****.
I.
who staggered over park benches, plastered and stabbed, in the unholy city of Las *
who crawled to the threshold of the St Therese Church doorstep for a 2 a.m. garbled vocabulary vigil of wine and song
who, left always alone, with a growling loneliness, forever on a lone trip for nowhere, with no one
where throngs of ******* husbands soak dead in their sheets of overdose
who only thought they were keeping it together whilst burning their lives to the ground, one more time
who were spotted smoking blunts in limousines just weeks before the mutiny of their disease sunk their Titanic
they, as unawares of the frigged cold, and truck stuck in the snow drift, walked miles in t-shirts and socks, just to get more, more, more
who ravished nightmarish, *****-like creatures for *** and cigarettes, all for a night on the town
and who disappeared for weeks, and looked upon as unrecognizable when these beasts of burdens returned, scratching at others’ wounds that they themselves had inflicted
that had spent years on the merry-go-rounds of surgical tables, jailhouses, psyche wards, detox centers and homeless shelters
wherein their ***** were handed to them by repeated self-administered beatings to the point of incomprehensible demoralization
II.
ism, the I, Self, Me, stuck in our heads and can’t get away from self
ism, the insidious Doctor Jekell and Mr. Hide act
ism, the hideous Four Horseman - of terror, bewilderment, frustration, despair
III.
who, under the lash of alcoholism, were unwillingly driven to A.A., and where, by some grace, were able to surrender, ask for help and become willing to make changes
whereby they gather together, in strength, to help one another from being swallowed up by the incessant madness
whose lives have been turned completely around, from a hopeless state of mind and body
who, one day at a time, don’t drink, drug, lie cheat or steal
whose relationships with their children have been mended
and who are living useful and purposeful lives
who care about each other and do what they can to help others
who give their time to share their experience and provide hope to the next sufferer
these alcoholics stay sober by working the 12 steps of recovery with a sponsor, and together, trudge the road of happy destiny
I saw the worst alcoholics of my recovery group return from INSANITY… beaten down at the battle grounds of *****.
I.
who staggered over park benches, plastered and stabbed, in the unholy city of Las *
who crawled to the threshold of the St Therese Church doorstep for a 2 a.m. garbled vocabulary vigil of wine and song
who, left always alone, with a growling loneliness, forever on a lone trip for nowhere, with no one
where throngs of ******* husbands soak dead in their sheets of overdose
who only thought they were keeping it together whilst burning their lives to the ground, one more time
who were spotted smoking blunts in limousines just weeks before the mutiny of their disease sunk their Titanic
they, as unawares of the frigged cold, and truck stuck in the snow drift, walked miles in t-shirts and socks, just to get more, more, more
who ravished nightmarish, *****-like creatures for *** and cigarettes, all for a night on the town
and who disappeared for weeks, and looked upon as unrecognizable when these beasts of burdens returned, scratching at others’ wounds that they themselves had inflicted
that had spent years on the merry-go-rounds of surgical tables, jailhouses, psyche wards, detox centers and homeless shelters
wherein their ***** were handed to them by repeated self-administered beatings to the point of incomprehensible demoralization
II.
ism, the I, Self, Me, stuck in our heads and can’t get away from self
ism, the insidious Doctor Jekell and Mr. Hide act
ism, the hideous Four Horseman - of terror, bewilderment, frustration, despair
III.
who, under the lash of alcoholism, were unwillingly driven to A.A., and where, by some grace, were able to surrender, ask for help and become willing to make changes
whereby they gather together, in strength, to help one another from being swallowed up by the incessant madness
whose lives have been turned completely around, from a hopeless state of mind and body
who, one day at a time, don’t drink, drug, lie cheat or steal
whose relationships with their children have been mended
and who are living useful and purposeful lives
who care about each other and do what they can to help others
who give their time to share their experience and provide hope to the next sufferer
these alcoholics stay sober by working the 12 steps of recovery with a sponsor, and together, trudge the road of happy destiny
inspired by A. Ginsberg's poem 'Howl', in reverse
