BIRDS & BEES
Birds and bees can get me drunk. I have to watch the amount of envy which pours through me as I watch their wondrous bliss. When others make a bee-line to the hive, I must head to a meeting and save myself despair if my spiritual condition is not sound. When other couples are weaving their nests, I have to be careful not to weave my way back to the bar. The mating dance is so sweet and seductive; I have to make sure I don’t end up doing the two step. For as much as I hate to admit it, if steps one and twelve where enough to keep me sober, the rest would not have needed to be written.
Pad barefoot through intention.
Neither Frog nor Fish
I was falling
and my Higher Power caught me
in a net called AA,
all of which was a pretty neat trick,
But the strangest consequence of this
is now I somehow think it shouldn’t be possible
for me to drown.
Defying gravity 24 hours at a time
doesn’t make me aquatic
or even amphibious for that matter.
I still have all the corollary restrictions
of anyone who is me.
I still need sleep and water,
food and warmth just like a mere mortal.
How silly I am.
I dodge a bullet
and suddenly I think I am waterproof.