And yet here I am, sipping a beer
Even though there’s a pain
In the left of my lower bowel
That I’m pretty sure is brought on
By an overconsumption of alcohol
Why do I find it difficult
Do prioritise my digestive health?
Instead of chasing that sweet feeling
Of a lofty head in the afternoon sunlight
I really just wish
That booze wasn’t bad for my body
If I rubbed a golden lamp and freed a djinn
I just know my first request
Would be just that
Some people say
That we drink to run away
But I’m not trying to escape
I genuinely find joy
In this nectar of grain and grape
That’s not to say
That when I don’t drink, things are grey
I’m plenty happy each day
There’s just an extra spice to live
With a beverage in hand
And I don’t want to feel guilt
For partaking in this temptation
About the Creator
Dominic Casey-Lee
Ecclectic, erotic, enigmatic. Exploring the mysteries of our existence through words, and hopefully providing some entertainment along the way.
Here you'll find excerpts from my fantasy project, stories, poems and general rambling.
Keep reading
More stories from Dominic Casey-Lee and writers in Poets and other communities.
Final Call
She flings her arms around my neck and squeezes me like she’s never going to let me go. My head spins as her lips brush against my cheek. She must be able to feel my heart thumping in my chest. I shuffle backwards and ram my hands into my coat pockets, watching her reach down and heave the rucksack across her shoulders.
By Caroline Cravena day ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.