Gin as Tonic
It moves like hypnotism down the throat,
Like fuzzy ecstasies that stroke the tongue
Along their way. A beauty soon begins to bloat
The brain like sugared peace and mist among
The nagging weights, those boring days, the nights
Of brownish worry and entrapment in
The doom of treadmill’s lack of singing heights.
The drink erases, gently, guilt and sin
For long enough to give a silk relief.
If not quite joy, it’s still akin to thrills.
It may not be as urgent as a lead grief
But better than the doctor’s doled out pills.
..It’s so much better than escape from stress
….Because it also means she might say yes.
Very moving
I did not know you had written this reply. Sorry. Who are you, James?