My Inebriated Thought

My Inebriated Thought

I’m working on my thin…
but tonight forgot her scarf.
So I ate pancakes drenched in vodka.
It works.
I negotiate the wiles of friendships,
but my brain is slightly fuzzy-
like rearview dice.
Reality is eccentric, like Howard-
pissing in bottles held with long fingernails.
I’ll walk this mental blur to the tunes of, Mark Knopfler…
his melancholic timbre taunts my sense strings.
I miss my him, he’s been pursuing the almighty-
and his laughter is distant.

MCW