Near Miss

Death
Threatened
In those glasses
Too many,
Unknowingly –
Thought safe
Enough.
So often called
Demon Rum,
Admittedly,
The name is not
Wrong –
But apt.
Life stealing,
Jerking
Into the throes
Of sickness,
Damnable –
In its viciousness.
Recovery, tortoise
Slow demanding
Sleep,
More,
More.
The palate seared
Stomach destroyed
Nevermore –
Not ever to try
Again, to find
Some
Consolation in
Contents of
A reflective
Bottle.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

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