Treasure Island

Stan Petrovich

(10/27/1950 / Fort Riley, KS)

A Chemical Marriage


We were once the torrid lovers,
Don't get me wrong:
Slobbering kissses the afternoon long;
And nightly penetrating like shovels.

But soon enough, too soo enough,
Entered the scourge of alcohol between her lips,
Floating fat and curling cheese around her once-shapely hips.
My reaction was astoundment, and my heart pounded rough.

Tonight with alprazolam coursing through her passed-out form,
I sit & curse my fate;
For I will not don the weight
Of those stupifying pills as any norm.

You see, with me, it all terminated at Kent State, back in '72 or '73;
When we lost our longsuffering position;
The rifles came and shot dead several along with me;
Clearly we had lost our situation.

But my wife's 700 million braindead cells.
All alcohol related,
Turned her into a fuming gel,
That only remains abated.

These newfangled drugs I think do even worse harms;
These newfangled pharmaceuticals boom onto her vacated brain;
Where there was a glimmer of hope has faded again.
I want to send out signal, issue alarms.

But no one believes that such a normal-seeming spouse
Can be engaged in such a zone of harpy-dropping terror;
That any marriage can have its strife,
Without this unseen force bottled on the floor.

Submitted: Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Edited: Sunday, December 30, 2012

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  • Tony Karas (12/30/2012 8:47:00 AM)

    I've been exactly where your wife is and if my wife had not stood by me I would have died. I'm clean now but it was a very rough road. (Report) Reply

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