choking on gin
is like having god kick you in the throat.

but that’s when i realized,
all the bar fights that me and the Old Man
have gotten into, in my head,
usually over the existence of pain,
or the holocaust, death, something terrible like that,
well, they were just in my mind.

and tonight the Old Man got his first shot in
(after i’d been threatening him with a switchblade for years).

“My beautiful child, please forgive me,”
He says, “but something big is about to happen,
and you might want to close your eyes for this next part. Ok?
I’ll be right back. Just stay down.”