Dionysus,
god of wine,
presses glasses of whiskey to your lips, tells you
he’s here, he’s here, and
shivers shoot down your spine.

You crack your knuckles under the table--
expand the space between your bones,
you want to punch him-- yet
his hands still find their way to the soft, supple skin of your knee,
press, knead,  and you want to slither away like a snake, turn into the
perspiration that dribbles down his neck, but
his eyes glimmer in the darkness and maybe
you just want him to purple you,
ferment layers of muscles you never wanted in the first place,
bite your lip, smile like lightning,
dig fingernails into emptied hair follicles, and
he squeezes your thigh so hard you’re worried
you’ll break in half.

**** it,
your narrow beams of ribcage only bounce under
shattered glass, he’s here,
he’s hurting you and you’re bleeding and blood is
erupting
out of your throat choking you choking him everything is
red, purple; purple me, you’re saying.

I joke I make a great punch,
but if you knew me you'd have a hunch
something is very wrong,
when I am very gone.

I begin sinking in my chair
my emotions are very bare
I feel my heartbeat.

This liquid courage is a cheat
the after taste is not very sweet,
I drank a glass, or two
it's all gone a bit askew.

This liquid courage is a cheat
I still don't feel complete
I drank a glass, or two
maybe I don't have a clue.

I just wanted to talk without thinking
I didn't want to feel like I was sinking
everyone else in the room seems fine
maybe I should just grow a spine
but it's not even nine and my blood is half wine.

I think I'm drowning,
why is everyone around me frowning?

This liquid courage is a cheat
I just wanted to feel upbeat
maybe if I reapply my lipstick- wait, I'm going to be sick

This liquid courage is a cheat
it leaves you downbeat,
you need to find your own two feet

Get up the chair, brush your hair
and then everyone there will become aware.
Don't worry about what to wear,
because they'll all stare.

Be bare and share, you don't need this much liquid courage
but one small glass I won't discourage.

we had been mopping
the kitchen floor all day
and the dirt never
stopped coming back

and earlier we had sprayed
the entire front porch
down with the garden hose
and now it was still wet
which made it feel as if
it had recently rained when in fact
the grass was a crunchy
brown carpet of regrets.

the night before we had
drunk orange smoothies
laced with lime and something
aged sleek and dark

(i think it must have been
the reason we couldn't
sleep that night
lay awake in my parents bed
and i told you why i
wouldn't go swimming
until the sun rose
the dog barked
the birds screamed
their morning songs
and my body stopped its
nightly spasms of fear.)

and the next evening
we put on a miranda lambert song
(the one we drank to
in your mother's van last winter)
sat on the wet
porch swing
and cracked open
our first beers

they were
really bad
i gagged
because it tasted
like carbonated
banana bread with
too much stale
baking soda
and we poured half of them
into the flower beds

the next morning
was sunday
and we had milk and muffins
in the kitchen with
simon and garfunkel
then went back out to the porch
drank iced coffee in the
eleven o'clock sunlight
and you said
"if this were a normal sunday
i would have been up at six
at church by eight
and done teaching my first
sunday school class by ten."

(is beer as much
of an acquired taste
as coffee is?
because i can't ever
remember not liking it
i used to think it was
bitter but i always
liked it anyway.)

i didn't say anything
because i didn't want to
say what was on the tip
of my tongue
that this kind of sunday
had become my normalcy
and our variety of saturday night
no longer felt like underage
drinking and more like
the way i was meant to be.

The drink
To drink?
No drink.

She drinks and is happy, elated;
She doesn't drink, she cries;

She drinks, she lies;
She doesn't drink, she dies;

The drink
To drink?
No drink- do the right thing and believe in tomorrow;
Tomorrow might just relieve the sorrow.

You used to call me Starshine
I used to wonder why.
I used to call you Moonshine, now I
See the reason I

Got so drunk off words you spoke I
nearly went blind.
Now and then see you pretend
through misty foggy eyes

That time the wind and us the dust
swept up away and off.
Nothing left where nothing was
swept up away and off.

(you know)
I could never lie when I was
staring at your curls.
Cashing in those empty bottles
just to buy you pearls.

I drank 'em first but there's no thirst
quite like the one you left me with.
Always parched, and never quenched until
I find you in a fifth.

I used to call you Moonshine
Now you're whiskey, bourbon, rye.
You used to call me Starshine
and I still wonder why.