by avocadoben

He hid gallons in the garage,
Fifths in the basement,
Pints in toilet tanks,
Airline bottles were on his person at all times.

But he wasn't drinking.
Why would he?
He'd bought the cure at an expensive Center
That taught him Yoga
And acupunctured away his brokenness.

The cure worked, too.
Now he could drink,
           in peace.

Red and blue lights reflected off the bottle.
He'd seen them before,
          on other lonely nights,
          while driving nowhere,
          drinking from bottles
          he kept in the car.

She left him jailed.
Thirty days of jumpsuit therapy
Would do him good,
She thought
And cried herself to sleep.

He shared jail toilets
And thought about his lover
Hidden in the garage
          and toilet tanks
          of his life.