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Fireman’s #4


I stopped drinking once.
It only lasted three months because
a bar hired me with twenty beers on draft.
After that I was finished. Done. Everything
smelled so sweet. I craved my old favorite,
the Agave Wheat that was a field
under the sun in the fall. I was weak.
Alcohol won and my body lost with
no toss of coin to decide my fate:
a conscious choice with no regrets
outside this poem. I am still awake and
aware and God still talks to me. He whispers
while I write and He smiles when I dance and
when I do try on pants he is honest and kind–
He tells me I should find the aisle with the skirts.

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