We are all drunkards here

—Akhmatova




Southern Comfort

 

And then, just like that, we quit the hiss

and slash, the past two years fall away,

claws retract, I don't know what changed,

if anything, doesn't matter, just like that,

Southern Comfort, maybe it was Willie,

maybe that settled it, doesn't matter—

maybe he did what I couldn't, doesn't

matter, Southern Comfort tastes good,

maybe we needed to get a little drunk,

look at each other in that slantwise light.

 

Don't say it, don't say it doesn't matter,

it wasn't Willie, it wasn't that, he was

a kite on a windy day—a pint doesn't

change anything, and nothing is settled.

 

 

 

 





Poetry by jim The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 899 times
star mini Editors' choice
Written on 2018-11-04 at 12:54

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Editorial Team The PoetBay support member heart!
This text has been chosen to be featured on the home page of PoetBay. Thank you for posting it on our poetry website
2018-11-11


Bibek The PoetBay support member heart!
I like the story that is inside the poem. I am still wondering how well the attitude changes with changing of the voice in the quatrain of the poem.

Bibek
2018-11-07


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Telling, wise conclusion.
2018-11-05



I can taste it, the Southern C. I can feel the aftermath. I can appreciate the need, for it all. You lifted this, literally, with a kite on a windy day, tells me all I need to know about this poem , its characters, the resentment, the buried hurt.
2018-11-05


shells
I'm loving it too, but alas for me I can't touch it anymore, definitely stems from misspent youth! Great line "look at each other in that slant wise light."
2018-11-05


josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
Love this! And I love southern comfort straight from the bottle!
2018-11-04