Boston. January. Temperature near zero.
  You had no heat. Naked under covers our
  breath smokes in passion not to be denied
  like a fire breathing dragon called Lust.

I was drowning in drunk minutes
waiting for 10 pm. Bedtime. I held
the minute hand to fight the riptide
and landed in silent seas of dreams
where my torn life is stitched back
like a monster I never understood.

As angels go Dorothy was my favorite!
She knew our talents. She believed.
She helped us believe in ourselves.
She laughed the hardest, she loved us all,
she guided this lost soul into a place of peace.
I miss you very dearly. I miss you most of all.
The scarecrow, tin man and cowardly lion.
We'll see you at the end of the yellow brick road.
Love to our dear friend, Dorothy Rengsdorff.

PTSD ADD OCD ABC XYZ
look in the Shrink's book they
pretend to know our afflictions
catalogued with treatments.
Our despair is hope in hopeless
shadows cast from burning bridges.

In the womb I got drunk
and high on ******'s junk
not even born I'm an addict
the orphanage will predict.
I've tasted and never forget
this **** storm of regret.
Adopt me and my monkey
I'll try clean but we'll see.

Alcohol stole my life.
  It made it all about it.
  It gave me pieces of me
  to juggle like I had a me.

I'm ancient my life
       packed neat in boxes
       in the attic
       by my wife
       for my final heartbeat
       and my burial
       in our plot. Send the lot
       to Goodwill to be forgot.