Booze Allergy

Booze Allergy

Some folks say

if booze was like pollen or dust,

you'd itch, sneeze or wheeze

right out of the bar

and you'd know, just by that,

if you're cursed with the scar

of an alcoholic's mark.

But it ain't that clear, not that kind.

You can swill that liquid misery

down to the dregs -

your body takes the beating like a champ,

but it's your skull that's twisted,

wrung out and cracked.

It's a thirst that's more like hunger -

a gnawing, a need, a goddamn obsession.

You keep crawling back

to the neon altar,

sucking down the pain,

each time thinking it's the balm 

to soothe that ache you've got festering

deep inside the gut.

But it's a lie, of course.

You get those shakes, that sweat,

you make oaths to porcelain gods

as your insides riot,

vowing never again.

But "never" is a joke

you forgot the punchline to,

and you, my friend,

you can't take a joke anymore.

Mentally? Nah, mentally you're on the ropes,

dancing with the devil

with every sip

that promises salvation

and delivers destruction.