Drunk again
1.
Sunday evening was a blend of autumn and warmth, unusual for May.
From the stadium we walked, thick with talk and thirsty from yelling at the football game.
Around my neck wove the colours of defeat, but my head was full of the daydreams of victory.
From lunch through the course of the game was the steady pace of beer.
At the bar by the sluggish river we settled, the muddy artery reflecting the cultural lightshow.
Our post-game analysis continued as beer absorbed the last of the twilight.
Night was absorbing me before her phone call reminded me of my responsibilities.
I was drunk again.
2.
Deep into the evening and my mental space narrowed to the verge of collapse.
At a point during the important birthday dinner I needed to broaden the conversation.
Silence had begun to descend on our table.
We had exhausted the subjects of the weather, memorable experiences and plans for the year.
I ordered another beer to stir the traces of humour lingering in the air.
Did the waitress consider me obnoxious? I’m usually remembered as the funny lush.
Or maybe I had revealed myself, honourless, slurring as the words rolled over dessert.
The birthday guests observed in various guises of interest.
I was drunk again.
3.
Too soon had I launched my personality into orbit for the celebration at year’s end.
The atmosphere was full of light and lightness; but as I progressed my imagination flattened.
I spun around the knots of colleagues, briefly transmitting jokes before I slingshot to Saturn to gather more wine.
Red wine was my fuel while I bounced aimlessly around this social system.
Red wine fogged the visor of my social helmet, distorting the signals of friendship.
I was lost in a burgundy haze when night arrived, and I floated to the ground as my personality deflated.
I was drunk again.
4.
Electric!
That emotion when I was ready for the music to propel me along an oceanside boulevard inside a rainbow groove.
Dancing!
But no sense of time and people. No sense for a good time.
I had crossed the money limits and forgotten the boundaries.
I was drunk again.
To be 20 again!
Like that magical New Year’s Eve so long ago when I was someone for someone and randomness felt like coincidence.
This night I had the dedication for imbibition.
From each vessel, I gulped the liquid.
A belly-full of delicious gulps.
Bender without beggars.
Stories and kisses.
Stupor touching my skull like a gentle breeze.
Did I dissolve into electromagnetic static, a puff of wind touched by those around me, as I escaped?
I was drunk again.
5.
Darkness and laughter in the streets convinced me to find a passage home.
I visited a purveyor of fried food and made a meal.
I alighted upon a tram and landed in a corner away from the happy chatter.
I ignored the movement as I ate with concentration.
I ignored the movement as my head stuck to the reflections.
The tram driver shoved me awake and told me to fuck off.
Crumbs fell from my dreams as I wandered across Sydney Road lit momentarily.
At the front door an awkward moment unlocked my desire for sleep.
I was drunk again.
6.
Quiet surrounded me when my consciousness burst into the day. I left Eurydice behind in the dark.
Outside a foggy morning brushed the roof like tears.
I listened for other life forms; there was soft talk downstairs.
From the swamp that was my mind memories oozed up like sharp bones.
Bones that pointed to an imminent reckoning.
- Dated: