Absolute sobriety.

Based on suggestions this is the only path.

Core-crushing deplorable thirst is the only math I calculate.

Dipped in alcohol, left out to dry,

Ether reeking from my pores,

Filled to the brim, Jim.

Grasping for swizzlesticks,

Hunched over a greasy mahogany bar,

Illiterate, immune, insufficient.

Joyful for the first few,

Kind for just a couple more,

Later on I’m laid out by the jukebox near the door.

Might I step back a bit?

Never.

Only when the sirens wail.

Police shall be the release,

Questioning my values,

Ramming me headfirst into a cruiser,

Subduing my wrists and ankles,

Taking me downtown.

Unless I change, this is the outcome.

Very unlikely that either shall happen.

We’ll just have to wait and see.

X-rays will later determine whether there was any abnormalities,

Yet aren’t we all abnormal?

Zero arguments from the peanut gallery.