POEM: “When You Crash The Company Truck” — Another, and another round. / $67.55 they made you buy the shots.

Crushed Taco

When You Crash The Company Truck

If he could only see what I saw when he swung open the door
Tall, proud, satchel bag from work, in command and clear-headed not stoned.

You’ve so much potential! And you were so proud showing me around!
But in the aftermath I saw it was not about me, but making yourself look sound.

How many times can you fuck up?
Will it be a Thursday or Friday when you drive-drunk/crash the company truck?

You once wrote that you could picture falling in love
But the sentiment was gone when you next hit the pub.

Another, and another round.
$67.55 they made you buy the shots.

And you suffering headaches from hangovers and doping too much.
Who are you when you’re sober, and stable, and not fucked?

What, by Christ, are you running from?
And yes I can see why you hate yourself so much.

If you could see what I saw when he tried to please everyone at once
He was overwhelmed, exhausted, out of his depth, and drowned.

And you spoke once of how you wanted to love
To not be alone, have a woman sleep close was enough.

You need to quit alcohol, eat well, go for a run
You need to stop listening to everyone around you just once.

Can you find the place inside your heart where once you gave a fuck?
If you cannot, tell me –

Will it be a Thursday or Friday when you drive-drunk/crash the company truck?

(My love, get to the country air, no substances, walk your dogs
Save your money, be brave, find the girl, build a family, and that pond.)

Sylvie Hill, Montreal, July 10, 2019.