Here's the thing

Here's the thing Catherine McKie (bio) Right now, I want a drink.I don't want a drink right now. A yacht floats in every glass of white wine.I count my summer afternoons enjoyed lean and clear, like water. My hull leaks vodka, pity, anger. Then tomorrow comes.Let's start with champagne floats, aperol spritz. I am happy now but wait ten minutes. Every shot rings sharpbefore its dull echo. It could be a lot worse. I could be a lot worse.It could be a lot! Worse, I could be… A lot, worse. Hey, at least when I vomitit cancels the calories. But I thought there was a warranty.Isn't there a guarantee carved into my keel (that's right, the boat metaphor is back)that says I can stop anytime I want? I could have sworn it was there a couple years ago.I know my dad has one. Before I was born, he got off his stooland walked away from the bar. He walked away alone.Didn't take anything with him. End Page 279 Catherine McKie Catherine McKie is a Pushcart Prize-nominated poet with work published in Nimrod Journal, Superstition Review, Thimble Literary Magazine, BlueHouse Journal, and others. Catherine is currently working on her first manuscript, an excavation of mental illness and gender in her family and herself. She lives with her partner in a house in the woods of Massachusetts. Copyright © 2024 Pleiades and Pleiades Press