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Not Tonight
Like a Siren calling me
Relentlessly to death,
My latent love of alcohol
haunts my every breath.
It started out quite innocent-
A scotch sipped here and there-
Progressing by degrees into
a sordid love affair.
A beer or three drunk at the game
And I was good company.
But, starting in the parking lot
I got disorderly.
Once a few drinks were consumed
Cold winter evenings lost their gloom-
Until my wife divorced me-
Now I live in rented rooms.
I managed, barely, while at work
I’ve got a union card.
I was often absent Mondays
which my boss thought very odd.
I had to find myself some help
To rise from my despair-
Wednesday nights in my church basement
There’s an A.A. meeting there.
I have a mentor guiding me
He’s been to Hell and back.
He always takes my phone calls
when Johnnie Walker wants me back..
And so I will not drink today
Ten weeks now I’ve been sober.
I spilled the drink into the sink-
I think… I hope it’s over.
While this is a work of fiction, it is a true story for many friends of Bill W.
poem
by
John F. McCullagh
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