Day 39 (c.): Succulent gratitude (just plain sux)... Readers' appreciation day blog...a drunken mosaic of joy...

The neon signs go dim. The bartender carols out "Last Call."
What commenced in the Spring has transitioned into Fall
A sabbatical deemed by critics as abstemious yet forlorn
To go forty days w/out beer,
"Hey, Why not just give up porn?"

Forty days sans a cold one, a six pack, 24 case or pitcher
Forty days to make my liver inestimably richer
Forty days w/out Happy hour, Keg stands, beer pong, late-night frolick
Forty days to learn that N/A stands for non-alcoholic.

Forty days, a scrupulous intense self-analytic rout
You only dream of rain in the midst of a creative draught
Words, manna from heaven, 40 days on which to feed-   
-and now is the time to thank those of you who took the time to read--

As Vermouth is to a Martini, as Kim Deal is to The Breeders
This poem is a Toast of gratitude just for you, my dear readers:

There is Larry Bradley who writes about Barber shops in crisp stanzas as if with shears
Jake Long who whenever I need a friend to talk has perenially been near.
 David Hale's insight guides me like a Peruvian Shaman
And even though she smokes ersatz e-cigarettes I still adore you, Brianne Ahmann.

There's Regina Mooney whose lips remind me of college French and senior walk
My oh my how I enjoy 'Wasted Wed’s' with my poetic brother, Kyle Devalk
As we intellectually posit while pounding beers, beat literature  and bliss
Always a pleasure to hang out with my neighbor, new mummy, Jen VanNess.

Thanks to Stephanie Green Smith whose memoir just plain kicks phucking-ass
When I hang out with Mike Galletti of Dirty Gentleman we always drown a cold crate of Pabst
My girl Krista Buchannan saw me read while sipping iced chai tea
Thank you Becky Lynn and J. Whitmore, whose witticisms are nothing short of incendiary.

And while she corrected my botched analogy concerning  the vicissitudes of the feminine “clit,”
I’m eternally gratefully to Natashia Deón and her kick-ass series Dirty Laundry Lit
Which gave me Hollywood, traipsing down the heralded Walk of Fame
Man, I’ll never forget touching the ivory finger tips of Miss Sarah St. James.

Thank you dearest Molly Fleming who to me will always be Mrs. Paroo
and to Kristin Frazee who sent me a picture of her sexy new Tattoo
Invariably my drinking sabbatical availed me time to financially catch up on bills
and to reminisce about  performing on BLACKSTARSEA hosted by the impeccable Josh Wills.

Gratitude to Ash in London who delineates the color of my dreams
It’s hard to meet someone more talented than the graceful Holly Greene
Who sang at Champs West while I drank Oxygen backed with a double shot o’ Hydrogen
How cool it was after all these years to hear from my dear Aunt Marilyn.


For local artists who inspire me like cool Stormy Monday and Diva Suzette
And the Beautiful creatures whom through this project I feel blessed to have met
”Skeet-loving” Tiffany Gray and a beautiful scribe named Athena
And WOW what a summer did I ever have with a reader named Valena
Promenading across county lines, sunset smoking, drinking gas station cappuccino
How honored I am to be invited to the aesthetic union of Carissa and Roxy Reno.

 I’m Thankful for Cumbo Cannella, book thief, proprietor of the voluptuous double G-cup
And the hearth-sized heart of Harshi and Erich Gilbert who gave my prose two thumbs up
Diane Hollister and Michelle Veal,  culled Cullum-Davis Library lore
And where would I be w/out my Sunshine (smile!) behind the counter  at the corner liquor store.

Thanx to Patrick ‘The Great’ McReynolds who got embarrassed when I espoused his romantic foibles and fates,
And cool playwright Karen Howes who I tried to seduce my quoting William B. Yeats’
Song of Wandering Aengus, Golden apples of the Sun,
The Silver apples of the moon
Thank you so much to the Tartan Inn as we partied all last June.

To my  brother DAZ whose GOBZINE captures vignettes of hamsters and fairies
After the death of his father you’re still my hero Cousin Larry
And even though reading my prose gave them optical blisters
I’m so grateful to have two of the most fragrantly talented sisters.

And to those I forgot to mention due to lapsed mental ambiguity
Remember when the cops find you drunk in the cemetery to use the word, 'Perspicuity'.
Never forget Rumi’s mantra ‘ Let Beauty you love be what you do.”
(It's been  21 years since Young Columbus England and I’m still blessed to know Mark-Andrew)

With gilded Daedalus wings may your every dream flutter and soar
As Gavra Lynn cries out, “Darkness doesn’t scare me anymore!!!!”
From that poor man’s poet who candidly chiseled out his vices for the planet to pan and perceive
(Everyone) “Where would we all be without our good friend Barbara Antoniazzi?”
 
Dear Reader, thank you for accompanying me on this forty day moratorium
even though I foundered on day 38 and moved into a craft beer emporium.
Think of that old writer while sipping  your next alcoholic brew

And realize what’s inside is not as magical as you.

From closet tubesock sperm, as Ovum is to semen
Never be afraid to go inside and conquer your own Demons
Be intrepid and audacious, the Dharma to Kerouac's itinerant bum

Know that someday you will be the person you yearn to become.

 

Thanks for reading. May this autumn bring you leaves of sunset tiles.

Sobriety never sux in the forever succulence of your smile.

--THANX FOR READING!!!!!

                   CHEERS!!