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Church Bees My Aa

I never knew angst to be so devilish a thing
Taking me from a million clean years, 
To ABC house of booze, because,
My blood money was abused by him
Wrecking the Kia Sportage I was strapped in
A passenger, pained to point of surgeries.

And on a rainy morning he swore resenting
Driving me to physical therapy,
And before the settlement, made his request:
"...Do my bathroom floor like yours."
And half of what I got was to be his
He carved such rules I broke in time
And kept secret what figures were mine.

But, lo and behold I sat pondering, counting pennies
And the devil drove me to think...
I should drink to that
All I got, and shared, and fail to stash.

Who knew Canadian whiskey would whisk me to detox?
And I, a recovering addict/alcoholic chose house of God
In AA I'd sit with alcoholics sharing what they drank,
How, when, where.
I'd rather say never again.

*

Copyright © Iris E. S-Lewis

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Book: Shattered Sighs