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October 7, 2019

Coming Home

I was in a jack daniels trance
a high of highs that night
tryin’ to keep up appearances
when I got home in front of the old man
but he was usually too drunk to notice if I was
or too drunk to care
“Where’d ya go?” he’d ask
“Nowhere” I’d reply “Just over to John’s house”
not mentioning Ed’s Tap Room, Four Kings Bar or Joe’s Hot Spot
where you could get a delicious french dip at 1 a.m.
my mother fast asleep on the other side of the house
after an evening of highballs
my sister watching TV in her room or dreaming whatever she dreamed about
walk down the red carpeted stairs into the basement
tryin’ not to stumble and tumble
down to where my room in the basement was
Linda Ronstadt posters spinning--red and blue by you
fall into bed for what I think will be a deep sleep
but I wake up in a few hours and lay there sleeplessly
listening to the birds singing
and the sun shining through my basement window into my eyes