Tonight's Poet Corner: Daze

Daze
by Belinda Roddie

We are all, in our own way,
drunk and stupefied -

the intoxication varies

like flowers, some still trapped

in bud form, others drooping

from the burden of their own

delicate wings.

As we grasp for solid walls, floors

are the only gods that can hold us up.

Like Atlas, their hands are rigid

against an imposing celestial crown.

You and I, we drink red wine together,

while Mother drinks Scotch, and Father

swore off drinking all but tea.

We are all dehydrated.

We are all confused.

And none of us are satisfied.