Losing to a $2.50 Bottle of Cabernet at the Library on a Thursday Evening

Zach Milkis


Full red
Library wine
Tongue coated in vinegar crackle
I decide to dabble into poetry
Just me
and Ahmad Jamal’s jazz piano trio
Playing the keys to my brain
Raindrop, waterfall
Oak barrel notes
Even though
All mine I crumple up and throw away
Chest resounding in vinyl fuzz
My heart brain unlocks
And plastic chair rocking
I douse my pen in cheap red ink
And begin again
Meandering scribbles
Sound sketches
Bass plodding deep and pensive
Dark and deliberate
I commiserate now with Mingus, Miles, Monk
Simone and Trane
Vain nostalgic searches
Cold moonlit silhouette verses
Jazz sounds like poetry
Holy blood, divine liquid lines

Half Full
Pen flowing
Ink glowing
A page appears
I haven’t seen before
Alive, shimmering Lionel vibes
I throw a black and white textbook
At the white and black floor
Flecks of winey residue
Flecks of truth
Get stuck in my teeth
And color my lips blue
And Suddenly

Half Empty
Heart heavy
Bladder filling
Tongue-tied delirious I get
Stuck
And seeping through this half-drunk numbness
Burgundy sadness
Poetry like jazz sounds
Wine like poetry feels
Congealed two-fifty
Self-fermented pity
Dark and red drowned
Wallowing prosetry
Lose pen and then
I’m alone again
Empty
Drained
Numb veins
Slow
Soothe
Succumb 
To this sad jazz
Wine brine
Has
Had
Was
Glass
Empty
Emptier
Emptiest