words

i’m going on a bender.

it has been decided
by powers greater than mine,
some form rubberstamped
and sent through the channels
of bureaucratic bullshit.

i’m going on a bender,
that is what is happening next.

the liquor store has wine
15% off on wednesdays
so i stumble in from sleep
with wild hair and tired eyes,
wandering the long aisles
of bottle after bottle
calling my name,
whispering to my lips
each wanting a home
within the curious trouble
of my way about.

i’m going on a bender,
that is what is happening now,
so i spend the grocery money
on a bottle of red,
a pinot grigio, a riesling
called “cupcake”
and i put them on the counter
and the liquor store girl
looks at me in appraisal
that i accept as i pay and exit,
clutching bags within a bag
like it were christmas
and i a bearer of gifts.

this will end somewhere dark
for this is only the beginning,
the liquor store girl
will soon go through a series
of considerations, back and forth
between fascination, curiosity,
indifference, disdain, and love;
this is the normal progression
within the curious trouble
of my way about.

i’m going on a bender
and no one can stop me,
there is no other way
than to bleed this need
of its strength, to push forward
and through the frenzy
and the fervor, to come out
on the other end wet and reeking
and covered in the placenta
of yet another birth,
shaking off the fetal residue
of this eutherian repetition
and having learned nothing
i am doomed to repeat endlessly
a reincarnation that moves me
further from the light
and as i stumble listlessly down
this dark hallway i think of only
how far we have come,
how far we have come.

-S.C. Martinez