|
 Menu
|
|
|
|
|
Social
|
|
|
|
|
Life after Death
Contributed by
Butterat_Zool
on
Friday, 18th June 2004 @ 11:37:20 PM in AEST
Topic:
Lifepoems
|
Startled by the cleaning ladies,
and their talks of beauty shops
and ghetto rap, I awoke, shirtless,
and in someone elses pants.
I remembered leaving the bar
the night before, and thought I had
fallen asleep in my shorts and red t-shirt,
but alas, that was not the case.
My head and stomach still spun
with the whims of the spirits
I took in the previous night,
and motion sickened me, so I lay still.
Somehow, over the night, I had lost
my identity, my mode of travel,
my wealth, and my toothpick,
along with all of my clothes.
Through the testimony
of my three caretakers,
I pieced together what
had happened the night before.
They said I was at the top of my game that night,
that I did very well at both pool and foosball,
that I took my 21 birthday shots
with admirable form and finesse.
The truth of the matter is that
my recording device ceased to function
after its 16th drink, so I pickled it up
with another 8 ounces of liquor.
They said I tore through my leftover steak,
not even bothering to use a fork, a plate,
a napkin, or any semblance
of proper dining manners.
They said that that steak is what
got those spirits stirring, what made
my head and stomach spin, and possibly,
what spared my life.
They said that within minutes,
I awoke in a friends car, en route
to a new locale, and poured forth
a quart of bile and booze-steak.
They said I sat, buckled in,
and hugged the curb of the road
while releasing another gallon
of putrescence upon the virgin soil.
They said they pulled me out,
stripped me to my undergarment,
and offered me to the local mosquitoes
while they undid my stomachs wrath.
They said my clothes were returned in a bag,
into which I unleashed what little choler
I had left, before returning to my caretakers car
and finishing our journey.
They said that, once there, I let another two cups
of fluid onto my clothes, my chest, and their bathtub.
They said that at some point during that, I found the pants
and delightfully donned and spat on them from the tub.
They said the drive to my bed was uneventful,
and that my clothes and belongings were left for dead
just outside my friends apartment door.
They said theyve never seen anyone more drunk.
I recovered my clothes and my stuff and headed back home
to do some laundry. I had some time to kill,
so I began to think about what I was told,
especially the part about never having seen anyone drunker.
That sentence hit me particularly hard,
but in two very different ways.
It let me know just how much I over-imbibed,
but it was also taken as a point of dumb machismo.
Ive done the math, Ive referenced the charts.
It seems that my BAC should have been between
.4 and .6 %, and it seems that I should have died
or, at least, slipped into a coma.
Naturally, that sparked thought, and great introspection.
The more I thought about my near-death that night,
the more I realized that death by alcohol overdose
is easily one of the most pleasant ways of leaving this world.
I was numb, both physically and emotionally. I had drowned
out my mental and physical ability to fear or hurt or care.
I would have simply ceased living, covered in vomit,
which looks far worse to the sober world than it actually is.
After hours of thinking and recovering, I decided that I would never again
allow myself to kiss death like I had. I enjoy living,
and thats enough for me. At the same time, Ive learned
to not take pity on those who die by alcohol.
They didnt suffer, they didnt worry, they didnt cry.
They simply slipped quietly into the darkness
just as they had come into the light
exactly twenty-one years before.
Copyright ©
Butterat_Zool
... [
2004-06-18 23:37:20]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
Advertisments:
|
|
|
|
|
|
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
|
|
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry
Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any
comment.
That said, if you find an offensive comment, please
contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title
etc.
|
|
|
Re: Life after Death
(User Rating: 1 )
by emystar on
Saturday, 19th June 2004 @ 12:12:12 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Wwo, happy it was u-n-not me. I certainly ddon't like hang overs. That'ss why I very seldom ever drink. The agony isn't worth it to me.
You told your story well.
luv, huggs,
emy |
|
|
Re: Life after Death
(User Rating: 1 )
by thumper on
Saturday, 19th June 2004 @ 08:42:55 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Wow!! That was quite a story!! lol You were lucky that you were with friends and not someone who could have very easily taken advantage of you. I'm glad to hear that you realize drinking isn't all it's cracked up to be. Stay off the booze and stay on the writes! Good one.
Thumps ; 0 ) |
|
|
Re: Life after Death
(User Rating: 1 )
by wray on
Saturday, 19th June 2004 @ 10:29:50 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Oh that was you that night was it? You left your undies draped over a fire hydrant outside the bar, I'll mail them to you.
Drinking isn't all it's cracked up to be? Where between all these drunken incidents did you learn that??
But thanks for the almost-too-personal account of your near-death experience, glad you did learn something after all on that profound journey. |
|
|
Re: Life after Death
(User Rating: 1 )
by Butterat_Zool on
Saturday, 19th June 2004 @ 03:57:41 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
| Lol... I never said it's not all it's cracked up to be. I only said i was excessive, and that booze is a good way to die. Plus, i totally wasn't hungover cuz i was still drunk. ;-) So don't let me scare you folks. Drink up and be merry. Peace. Butterat Zool. |
|
|
|
· 
Poetry
Site Help
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others
