Dennis, long and lanky,
loved his liquor:
vodka, whiskey, tequila, gin –
he’s not choosy!
It’s the burn, you see,
that he’s after,
the eye-watering admonition
from nerve-endings shouting
“You’re alive!”
when he thought he wasn’t.
He tried other means,
Dennis did, to bustle
without aid of a bottle
but the memories were too many,
so he clung to his anchor,
and because of it
drove everyone away.


Written in Response to the Daily Prompt: Showdown at Big Sky
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