The Club, the Men, and the Drink
Free Verse Poem — Relationships and Addiction
I hear it again. The clink
of ice against steel. The chug of rum
the fizz of cola as it blends
She’s on another binge —
Mixes gallons instead of glasses
The rhythm of blues — a sad sax moans
its way into my room. She’s lost another one
One more of many; the fifth this month
From Roxie’s, the jazz club where men
pile in through smoky haze and chatter —
Sailors and steel workers, lawyers
in pinstripe suits, and the junkies —
the ones she usually falls into one-night
next-morning interludes. Their numbers
left on the fridge — always the wrong number
But she calls in anticipation
because she expects too much for my sake
And in the morning, through the maze
of bottles and papers, cigarette butts
and scattered clothing, I will find her
Passed out on the floor, her life
as washed-out as her face
