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.

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