July 20
IT’S MY PARTY
The party I was throwing for myself in addiction was nothing
but a very long wake. There were no
smiles, only murmurs of what might have been.
I was filled with tears I couldn’t cry and mourned my death as I caused
it. When I took off my little black
dress and stepped from this shroud, I closed the bar, clicked the switch and
the dirge stopped, the funeral ended prematurely. I walked into AA where I learned to be the
life of the party.
Make a safe space
for your radical tastes.
*
Taking the Field
Humor is an illustration;
a joke an explanation.
I learn far more from the smiles than the jeers.
Laughter carries me; an action,
which tears can’t always accomplish.
It is hard to live with constant descent,
but wit is a quick impassioned friend.
Thoughtless conformity is an evil companion
I prefer the company of those who play.
Life is too hard from the sidelines;
I would rather take the field.
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