The Drinker #1

A 50 hat. Cigarette hanging from the mouth.
The kid drummer was always touting
Being drunk.

When we started dating I wanted none of that
So he insisted on tea at the bar, in fact.

And it was good so we moved in
But never talked about marriage and kids

And was out every Friday night for band practice
And my guy friend said: Where’s your boyfriend?

And I counted the days he was hungover
And I finally gave him an ultimatum:

$2300 to buy me out.
We break the lease if he doesn’t cut this shit out.

And I was told I should been softer
Ask “What’s wrong honey, shall we talk about it?”

In the end he went back to his first love ex-girlfriend
Has three beautiful kids with a woman who puts up with him.

Fuck I hope she doesn’t leave him – she’s too good for that shit.
But as mates they complied with each other’s states in a way I couldn’t have.

For that time he nearly lit my cottage on fire
And lit up a smoke at the gas station as I drove him back to town

And that night I ended up with the girth cock of a drummer from Detroit at the Radisson
Made for a fabulous story of how I ditched a prick who I would then end up with.

Drinker #1’s dad had said once “il fait du binge-drinking?”
Never heard the term but his Dad wasn’t dumb: he was watching.

He admitted in our last week he had a drinking problem
But that he wanted kids and a house and we were tenuous.

A contradiction in terms if ever I heard one!
We fell into friendship ourselves though over too many pints downed.

Sylvie Hill, Montreal, June 9, 2019