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Poem

Charon demands us to disrobe
Sell your layers for coins
Some with less have more to trade
Better than becoming chained ghosts
Our suits and dresses tie us down
Being nude again will be sobering
After a year of stripping down 
Sobriety feels too brisk
I put on Italian wine’s garment
It tells me to pour layers on
It tells me to put on the full suit
I refuse to put on the regalia
Strut at home alone in my finery?
I never knew I was wearing wealth
I never knew my addictions were bank

Being naked is hard for addicts
The sober ones streak without a clue
No clue about pleasure and pain’s weight
My wine-soaked skin hidden is nice
Old garments repurposed again 
Addiction feels like comforting cloth 
For once I’m not self-conscious
I’m Adam before the Fall unashamed
He sold his snakeskin boots
Charon will strip us when it’s time
When we die, does it matter our attire?
We go with our makeup off
Better to peel off the layers now
Than gasping for one more breath
Holding onto our negligees or pj

We were born without clothes
Through the years layers are laid
We all strip off old selves
We layer on new selves
Addicts have the most coats on
The ones with the pearliest of skins
The sober ones freckled by the sun
We with crutches are most prized
When the ferryman asks for your coins
When Charon asks to lighten your load
Addicts can hock all their clothes
Strip down, turn burdens to gold
For a ticket to ride across
Finally free of attire
We can all retire

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