The alcohol mumbles,

An already twisted script becomes indecipherable

Language scotch taped and Scotch soaked,

Leaking like the end of a ballpoint pen saddened by neglect,

The endurance and courage it takes to hold firm less than the desire to assault one’s equilibrium

Checks and balances unstable,

What once was furtive only futile, one incoherent step at a time

Happy hour lasting longer than 24 hours,

No capacity to discover clarity,

A Scapegrace playing “spin the bottle” solo