Lowball

by Lois Marie Harrod (July 2020)

Woman at Table in Strong Light, Richard Diebenkorn, 1959

 

 

Lowball

to toe-fall, palling as it

slipped my hand

in the muddle of the night,

 

old-fashioned whisky glass,

the scotch I wasn’t drinking

just thirsty in the piddle

 

of my plight, seeking

for the first tumbler

in the cupboard, half-awake

 

glassy-eyed, until it hit, the blast,

lead crystal hard stuff rocks lass,

the stuff I never drink, heavy

 

splitting my middle toe, fiddle flow

riddle of the tired and trite,

and I wasn’t drinking,

 

dry as a tough duck stricken

by a krait, and how it hurt,

that shot in the dark.

 

Today I’m limping.

 

 

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