Monday, May 6, 2013

In the Toaster

I lost my last bartending job because I was drinking near the end of my shifts sometimes.  Always I worked hard for my guests and team-mates, but I used alcohol to ease my stress, numb my physical pains and to celebrate the everyday completion of a job.

I've been in purgatory working a job that doesn't pay well, but at least they gave me a shot.  As of today, I haven't had a drink in seven months.  I have regained my balance and remembered my priorities.  My wife, kids and home are all that count.

I'm about to start another job that should pay me what I'm worth again.  Maybe I've proven that I'm responsible.  Maybe I'll be released from purgatory.  Does that mean I get to celebrate a little?

I've been thinking about it.

In the Toaster

So long
I've been dry and square
As a slice of toast.
Need a little butter
For smoothness,
Spread some jam
To make me sweet,
But take care
To keep my shape.

Too much jam and butter
Just make a sloppy mess
On my fingers,
Down my shirt,
All over the floor.

Feeds the family
Like a wholesome loaf of bread,
But too much time
In the toaster
Makes an ashy crust
Good for nothing
But crumbs.

So I need to spread
A little butter and jam

In the works is a book of my poems.  Currently I'm calling it "The 86 Collection" but it needs a real title.  Some phrase from one of the poems will distinguish itself.