I miss the sound of ice cubes breaking through a Tullamore Dew. The hot times with Chivas Regal. But the best drinks are behind me.

I'm getting used to the dry rush of a decaffeinated lifestyle and my pet dove gets to see the sun rise now I'm up with the parting of the curtains.


This morning I rolled my tongue over a milk thistle tonic. Sang with the black cockatoos started up my own flight scream.

Later, I'll walk through liver-cleansing streets where blood lights shine and never black out.

I'm keeping the word broken from my beautiful bones.