By Jim Greenwald
(previously published by Children. Churches, & Daddies)
it burns as it flows across the lips
to the pit of the stomach
foul tasting brown liquid
it extinguishes reality
it is oppressive
unbearable
burning and searing
turning the stomach
over ice he says
you see, the ice is a cool breeze
a release from the oppressive heat
the unbearable burning and searing
I wanted to be alone in this oppression
but people feel a need to form packs
Interrupting the quiet with their chatter
and I am left to search for my whiskey and ice
until then it is the oppressive, unbearable
burning of another day