Smooth Whisky

By David Estringel

 

tick…tock

tick…tock

The days are long

in a life of slow motion.

Waking uptakes too long,

despite the violent assaults

of the alarm clock,

unchained

by a snooze button–

–like me—

worn down

to the circuitry.

tick…tock

tick…tock

Get up late,

again.

Take a whore bath

in the bathroom sink.

Wash what needs it

and get out the door.

Shower’d be nice…really nice

Maybe tomorrow.

Probably not,

again.

tick…tock

tick…tock

Office clocks–

harbingers of death

to my soul–

lament the dying of the fire, within.

Telephone rings perforate

recirculated air of lungs and mouths

like a symphony of electric crickets,

tuning-up beneath the hepatic glow

of fluorescent suns

outside my cubicle’s walls.

tick…tock

tick…tock

Driving home in the same car,

down the same roads,

in the same rancid clothes

that need more than just a good airing out,

stuck in this bad track mix, playing on a loop,

I need a drink.

There’s a bottle at home.

Whiskey, I think–a gift for my 50th.

It goes down, rough,

but smooth, after a glass or two or three.

Smooth is good

in a life of no motion.

tick…tock

tick…tock

(Repeat All)

 

David Estringel is an avid reader, poet, and writer of fiction, creative non-fiction, & essays. He is currently a Contributing Editor (fiction) at Red Fez, editor/columnist at The Good Men Project, and an editor/writer at The Elixir Magazine. David can be found on Twitter (@The_Booky_Man) and his blog “The Booky Man” at thebookyman.wordpress.com

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