How does one recognize and concede
that one has a penchant for a small taste
that's grown inexplicably, into a larger one?
'He has a weakness, ' it is said without a
shread of knowledge, 'cept the perception
that anyone who drinks, is a drunk -
destined to the damnation of alcoholism.
Might as well have one for the road then?
jerry hughes
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/abbey-lubber/
