So: since I stopped drinking,
my sugar-craving’s intensified
tenfold. This volcano-
shaped silhouette inside me
needing peaked with white
sweet snow. Now no one knows
but you– I went to Kroger
in this cold April rain past
bleating trains and dovetailed
straight for the candy and cookie
aisles. I took advantage of the
sales, stocked Oreos and Hershey’s,
went to self-checkout. I did not
want a stranger to know my blue-
bagged shame that began
unwrapping in the car,
bar after bar, but here
(originally published in Hamline Lit Link, Summer 2020)
We used to be the same, used to
dance in living rooms in Grandview
houses, drunk on homemade Moscow
Mules in copper mugs, and then
you said you would no longer.
With a glass of emptied ice
water, you’d drip out the fronts
of bars without a noise.
(originally published in Live Nude Poems, Spring 2019)
I keep saying
when I start drinking again,
there are gonna be ground rules–
the main one being I can’t be
a fucking asshole–
and these include
nothing hard & nothing sweet.
& only beers, a few.
But I need to be honest
with myself right now.
(Originally published in Poetry Super Highway, Winter 2018)