The charismatic alcoholic
Sees faces in the bathroom wall:
Monstrous, looming visages,
All teeth and bulbous cheeks,
When he crouches on the toilet
Late at night, too drunk to read
And too drunk to stand,
Sitting like a woman,
And he hears his dead father
(who may be on the wall)
Railing at the hospice nurse,
“Goddamnit, I’m a man!
I won’t sit down to piss!”
And he sees another face,
Briefly young and handsome,
Phase slowly to bloat and sag,
And he remembers that
He needs another drink,
Just one more before bed,
Where he’ll lie on his back
And stare at the textured faces
Falling dizzily down upon him.
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