Friends of Bill W.

[LeftWriteFemme]

December 27


Harriet Powers

Like a creature with a long tale told in a hushed voice. The whispers tell the story with inflection and innuendo. I slink away from the mirror and the disembodied voices it engenders. Thirty versions of my past spin away from me in the eddies of time gone and misremembered. I gather my fragments and tatters; I thread my needle and sit to quilt me into the present. The odd assortment left from all which has worn out or been pulled apart fit in a pinwheel pattern and turn toward a better day. The night is warmer for now I have it covered, settled and safe, perhaps now I might even sleep.


Use a crutch if you have to but move
*


Best so Far

Being the best so far doesn’t mean so awful much
Makes you the current standard bearer is all
Not even keeper of the watch.

I can’t give you a torch to hold
Certainly not a title either of Daddy or of Din
You will find your way through this morass
Keep your courage if not your cast
But this is a hard thing my dear, dear friend
Because the old tricks they don’t work no more
And the new tools ain’t broke in.

And lest I should forget
Just because you say you have a sense of humor about yourself
Doesn’t mean you have it
And when you try to take me to hand
It doesn’t mean you ken it
And all the days that dreams drift by
It doesn’t mean they’re yours and mine

For time must play its evil trick
And leave good things to pass by us
But this doesn’t mean that hope is lost
Or even that I’ve found it
Only that peace is a thing which seeps
And pressing will confound it

So maybe when you are pushing seventy
And are sober nearly as I am now
I will read this to you
And we will laugh
For by then being the best so far
Will matter a little more and hurt a little less.


You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

[LeftWriteFemme]

December 28


Entrée Entrée

I am not one to order an appetizer, I prefer the main meal. Even if I carry the majority of the entrée home I like to have it all there before me. Knowing there is enough, might I want it, means peace of mind and I can relax and eat what I wish. That’s how much I fear. Fear opening my mouth to ask for more. Fear not anticipating my actual appetite. Fear of having nothing to show for my evening out. What could it all be like had I felt free of rules and public policy that must be carried out in private? I might never know, but what I do know is that I need to overcome this. Not because of starving children near or far, not to eliminate the science experiments of mold growth and wilted lettuce in my frig, but in order that I have a chance to have my desert and eat it too and leave the rest unordered.


Lubricate the places where you get stuck

*

Burying the Impossible Dream


I didn’t waken it and twist it in a shroud
I propped it in a corner and attempted to play house.

I didn’t face the truth and love the loss that goes along
I clung tighter than tight and buried my face in the back of its shirt.

I didn’t stand and look in the mirror
I stared into space and played the film strips of futurity.

I didn’t breathe in and out keeping my heart aloft
I held it all with empty lungs and pallid pulseless bosom

I didn’t do the things I could not do
I did the things I had to do

I didn’t think I could ever let it go
I know now that I must


You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

[LeftWriteFemme]

December 29


Hey Little Sister

Who pulls the trigger, you or I, in this Shotgun relationship? Is it more to the point if you slit my throat or if I slit my own? I only ask for the sake of expedience, rudeness was never my intent. I know we both wish this dilemma resolved with due speed and precision where possible. I am not as concerned with my survival as much as neatness all around. I hate to leave you with a mess and I would tuck my tail and go, but I have tried that before and still we end up here, so let’s end this shall we and hope that there are better worlds than this to find after we have shattered the sugar egg we used to live in.


Tend your human ivory
*

I AM


I am unloved though most everyone loves me

I am unwanted though there are those who stand in line

I am unknown though people who’ve met me never forget

I am unconscious though I seem awake

Because today it is about how I feel not what is real



You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault