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.