on this martini version of a margarita
I listen to La Vie En Rose
play above me, in the speakerhead.
Louis Armstrong,
helps me understand
what is is to take up drinking in my 30's
along with the countless housewives,
and lives collectivelely lived and survived through before me.
The sweet juice staggers my eyes a bit, and blurs visions;
I'm a light weight, dark soul,
drowned and finally embracing liquid as my breath;
ironically...
it buoys me up.
And only in the surrender,
do i find
the struggle and storm eased, afterall.
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