No DUI, claims she, but I
Was overcome in a jam
By exhaust, heat, boredom, frustration
...And how she was.
She dreamt of a table overlooking the highway
Where she'll drink wine, and watch the traffic flow
(Though it be slow)
With the pleasure of a spectator
Secure that events cannot affect her.
In an elegant dress, falling
In delicate folds to the ground
As men gaze at her,
Tormented, agonized, stultified
For she knows that love is pain
To be dispensed in small portions
That the addiction may grow,
As its afflicted captive
Learns through pain and misery
What cannot be lived without.
Soon the tired sun settles to the west
And dusk's violet shroud falls over rock, cement, metal
Its tint of grape come to settle.
Noir has its affects; she stands, glass in hand,
Silver shining in twilight
And spins, struts, dips, and bends;
Dancing to her own tune
Though not lacking for willing partners
She is hers, and hers alone.
Stars blinking through the end of day
Are her shy audience
The still of evening is her applause
And alcohol is her stagecraft...
With all its support, and all of its flaws.
Intoxication loosens her grip
And the glass falls with a crash -
She wakes to see that she's trapped
In the midst of an eleven-car pile-up.
It can only mean more and more
Lost time, money, effort
In a long-lost life.
With more concern than desire, a man peeks in
Through her shattered window
And asks, "Are you all right?"
She begins to shake her head -
"No, I'm not! ALL was lost!"
...Then sighs, acknowledges reality, and nods.
The samaratin leaves to check others,
Shards of plastic and glass crunching under his shoes.
As she rummages for proof of insurance -
Hope it's not expired! - She muses:
Waking can be more painful
Than living and dying in a daydream.
