Woke me retching and alone.
Within doom booze
her arms around me again
in wished-for honeymoon time
that never happened.

Wait now to become ashes
and am so sorry.

Stagger now, shaking for what I'm running on.
But it takes a few to get started these days,
face gouged by razor unable fingers hold
and each step away from where a bar is near
makes me feel certain I'm going to drop dead.

Each morning now is terror.
The bathroom mirror reflects
earthworms have not a long wait
to pick me clean.
My toothpaste mouthwash
is a breakfast of liquor,
so is all day and every complete night.

Took her once in the snow
the seacoast near, vivid
like if bright red blood was blue.

Afterward when she stood up
the bare spot we melted
was like two halves of a pear.
I know she is in a Fishing Village now
with many babies.
The boats go out each morning before sunup
breaks through salt fog and come in long after dark,
just to make ends meet.

Maybe he is good to her
in his clumsy understanding
I hope so, but never sure in his mind.
Furiously suspicious at any man's glance at her
eternally looking for whoever I am
directly into the face of each tourist who comes
into town.

How it frustrates him, unable
to find and strangle me
who is always the wedge between his best effort,
and he is so strong, sea life hardened.

Wake me these days retching then, all right
just tell her that I fell.
My happiness time was with her,
been any kind of a man
I would have carried her like
a knapsack away and felt
her feet slapping my thighs.

Come on, death, I fear
to wobble the few steps to you.