Sometimes
it's the only thing
between you and
death.

Distillers
have saved more lives
than all
the suicide hotlines
in the world.

Here's to you.

mce

On the fourth
painful morning
after the fourth
drunken night,
he merged
with Reality
and achieved
Enlightenment:
he no longer
had a hangover;
he was a hangover.
  - mce

I don't always like
(the taste of)
bourbon
but **** do I like
the way it can make me
feel;
that sting of warmth
as it slithers down your
esophagus,
and suddenly you know
all the best dance moves,
your voice hits smooth on
all the tunes,
your jeans hug ya just right,
and somehow the night
has become yours.
Too many bourbons and
**** I might get a little mean,
but just one or two
and I'm the most
proud-to-be-from-Louisville-
Kentucky girl you've ever
seen.

I am a glass of skim milk.
I am a reconstituted congealed protein fixture-ate
molded like a rack of ribs.
I could be alien technology
if I weren't christmas lights and a projector.
In fact if I were any more prosthetic I'd be...
a picture of a painting of a plastic rose.

I'd be at the globe theatre.
I'd be lear, othello, hammers, macky, romero and roz.
Cuz I'm a lick-on-stamp of higher education,
and I'm a bottle of **** that you find under your seat in the van
when you're so thirsty you can hear Berbers in the distance.

I could be the mermaid on the front of wooden ships.
I would be the black olives on your gordita cruch;
and I'll smile at you with 9 inch long teeth
as I dutifully hang your laundry in the rain.

With dozens of laughs all covering up
tender spots I'm too chicken to cry about
I am a master parade floating up, up,
in the middle of the street,
Til I fall with a ******* box of bottled bourbon *****
for my buccaneer bravado's.

And fists
I make while walking
and beating sticks
I carve, still beating,
with imaginary reasons
that I find a bit disturbing.

When I go walking I go walking off into the ending
cuz I'm just killing time while trying not to go crazy
i-I-eye-shouldastudiedmore
I shoulda beat up my *** drive in a dark alley
while it was still raining,
and a I shoulda
red more
bled more
sweat-ed more than I did,
cuz I'm standing here in a bucket
with the thunderstorm looming
clutching onto a flag pole for dear life
like it was my mother.
Hoping just for one big bang
to send me off into the twilight
to shoot me out past the moon once again.
Cuz I'm drowning in the rain that doesn't hit the ground.
and I'm smiling like Bob Wiley on a tree stump,
as I sip at strychnine
like it's Chianti.

This cigarette
we have met before
and I left you so long ago with that taste in my mouth.
This bourbon
sweet and hot..
we knew one another well once. I am revisiting your heart.
These words
we have fought a war
and I am coming home to fight no more
bruised but done bleeding
forever.
This empty bed
inviting and cold
our commitment is no longer foiled by loneliness.
This apartment
quiet and cool
we have seen the silent devastating fight.
This moment
surreal and full
and I am content to live in this reality
pain and fear and peace
finally.

You asked my poison,
as we stood at the bar.
Your wallet in hand,
paying my way into your car.

Give me bourbon and I'll sway to the music
and lean my shoulder against yours.

Give me whiskey and I'll show you my passion
in the backseat of your car.

Give me beer and I'll be one of the guys,
feigning detachment, remote.

Give me ***** and I'll show you my youth,
tears reflecting my innocence lost.

Give me *** and I'll whisper I want you
as we fall into your room.

Give me any poison you like,
I drink them all without  a wince.
I tried them all to forget things,
one after another 'til I lost sense.
Choose what poison will have the effect,
how do you want me before you tonight?
Set it in front of me and smile sweetly,
I'll down it, my every cell feeling it's bite.