Booze Poem by Brett Rogers

It’s a pain reliever.
It’s emotional makeup.
It’s a colon cleanser.
It’s a boredom cure (it will make any movie entertaining, and the entertaining ones transcendent) .
It’s a conversation starter (the perfect time to call my Mom) .
It’s a go-to-sleep aid.

It’s insomnia and restless limbs.
It’s achy.
It’s shame and regret.
It’s a quick fuse.
It’s begging for a second chance.
It’s a lubricant for the gears that further my brain, that spin and spin:
“Drink drink kill kill.”

It is in my coffee cup right now.

* * *

It’s,
It is …
Not special or unique.
If the place that gives me gas had jars of pot or fresh lines or pills instead it would be that,
It would be that instead.