A drunk's favorite words
are: "This time
it will be different."
So I walk into a bar
choose a seat
and spin the wheel.
But it is always the same:
to the bartender I am a twenty
dollar bill. To women
I am a bag of laundry.
To my friends, I am
an I.O.U.
Someday I will die
in the weeds
or on the sidewalk
and I will be a Popsicle
in the city morgue.
Different
at last.
