Tag Archives: alcoholic

She’s Angry and You Don’t Remember What You’ve Done Because You’re Such a Wasteful Drunk

Boom.
There she was
all up in my face
all over it
everywhere
like saran wrap
but much worse.

Eyes wide wild and crazy.
Teeth gnashing out words
spitting
grinding
pointing
screaming
about something I did wrong
and that it was the last time
the final straw
as I was now in the pisser
the shitter
the doghouse
the dump.

Yes, I was in all kinds of heathen trouble
since the bad news kitty-cat became a Bengal tiger
and now it was flowing
-such harsh words from such hot lips-
as she unleashed a boiling cauldron of fury
right into the lap of my soul.

I tried to follow.
I tried to follow.
I couldn’t follow.

Evac and evade!
Evac and evade!
I couldn’t even get up.

All I could do was look at her
and wonder what it was
that I did wrong
because I was drunk again
and at the point where I usually stumbled
into the great big nothing
that I called sleep.

Finally, she marched off
like she was adequately prepared
to eviscerate the entire housing complex.

I was still wondering what I had done
that was so engagingly disrupting to her
inner calm.

I shrugged.
I had no idea.

I suppose that I would
find out tomorrow and that
my life would be
Hell
for a little while.

New Horror Novel Out: The Dweller

Dweller Cover FINAL PRODUCT

I have a new horror novel out now on Amazon that delves into my musings on perception, dreams and the spirit world—and just in time for the holidays! You should definitely check it out!

 http://www.amazon.ca/Dweller-Hernan-Monzon-ebook/dp/B00OVKYPWY/ref=sr_1_6?ie=UTF8&qid=1414252310&sr=8-6&keywords=the+dweller

20 Years Later & Still The Fuck-up Deadbeat Alcoholic Father Of The Year

I knew that I fucked up
as soon as the money was gone
and I finally came crawling back to the motel
hours later
wasted

There she was standing
outside of the door -my baby
my little girl my
sweet strong sentinel.

She was crying she was so
furious that it made me want to
cry
and take everything back
all of it
ever.

“You said you were going to change…”
She shoved me and I
stumbled back and over a parking curb.
It might have been slapstick funny if it
wasn’t so damn pathetic.

“But look at you, same as always. The funny thing is
that I wanted so badly to believe in you. It’s all that
I ever wanted and you couldn’t even give me that and I
can’t do this anymore.

I just simply can’t
so if you want to keep drinking and killing yourself,
well here.”

She lifted the half-empty bottle of vodka I had stashed under the bed
and threw it at the ground.
It smashed so close that I felt shards of the
broken glass
sting my face.

“There you fucking go.” She said
and then her back was turned and she was walking off
toward the night highway-
my baby girl,
my sweet strong angel.

I tried to get up but the gravity of everything
was all off and I had to crawl over to the wall
and once I was finally up I started hoofing
the door to my room.

“FUUUUCK!” I screamed, kicked it harder.
“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!”

Some asshole opened the door beside me
spit out his cigarette and said,
“Christ, Old Timer, keep it down.
She was too young for you anyway.”

“Oh, go to fuck.” I replied.
“That’s my daughter.”

I stumbled into the room
slammed the door
and started looking through my bag
hoping that she didn’t find those little
airplane mini bottles of booze I had
wrapped in my underwear.

There might also be some left
in the baggie I shoved
behind the toilet.

I hoped to God there was some.

I wasn’t anywhere near
sober enough
to handle this.

And I wasn’t sober at all.

Fuck January

It was -26C out.
I had turned the key twice but my car wouldn’t start.
It would just growl a little then die.
I gave it a dirty look.
It started.

I drove across a city
covered in ice as brittle as glass
and snow turned hard as stone
screaming along to a rap song I hated
but knew the words to anyways.

I passed a kid who had his tongue stuck to a pole.
His was frantically waving his arms about.
I gave him the finger and hit the gas.

I laughed. He looked like a penguin
except that he was holding a cellphone.
There you go, Buddy. Don’t need your tongue to
text your way out of this one.

Text, Motherfucker, text!

I got to her house and barged in wearing a squirrel.
Putting beers in the fridge I wondered why
it was cold as my ex’s dead heart inside
when she came down wearing a parka without pants
because nothing about her made sense
except her legs.

“I have baseboard heating. It’s too expensive.” She said.

I turned on the sink
hoping for some hot water to splash into my numbed face
but the pilot light must have been off because
it came out colder than glacier run-off in Alaska.
North Alaska.
I thought that it could have been
another money saving device.
What the fuck, was she a penguin too?

Penguins, they were everywhere…they were watching me.

I knew her for ten years.
We’ve only fucked twice
and that made me inexplicably sad
all of a sudden
so I cracked open a tall can.

“Really?” She said. “It’s 10AM.”
“Best to get an early start.”
“Why do you always drink?”
“It helps me face the absolute terror of every day.”
“So, you’re a coward is what you’re saying.”

Women were always on the attack with me.
They hated me secretly and used everything about me
against me with relative ease and the reason
that I hung out with them more than other guys
was because I was the biggest fucking masochist on the planet.

“Jesus, is EVERYTHING cold around here?” I shouted
then gulped the thing down.
‘Oh, that’s nice.” I said.

She laughed. “At least your beer is cold.”

“Yes, it is.” I said. “You are so maddeningly beautiful when you’re disappointed in me. Do you have any perks?”

She smiled, turned around and opened a cupboard.

Town Drunk

When you’ve had enough
it’s not enough
until after a while
everything becomes
a violent smear of
voice and colour

There is music as well
you hear violins
must be Beethoven.

He was a fucking drunk too.

They all were
all the greats
except for Hitler
and look what happened to him.

What, you want to fight me for saying that?

Sure, let’s go out back
and I don’t care that you’re
a crippled woman dressed like
a Yiddish man.

Well then,
come disco with the devil.

This whole world and all the
abrasive wasteful mutts that inhabit it
has got you drinking the whole bottle
the whole week
because the way you feel
is all their fault
and you drink because
of the way you feel.

Does that make sense?
No?
Here, drink this.

How about now?

And once again you’ve made
yourself look like an inept drunk
because of the fact that you’re an
inept drunk

Then finally you’re about to leave the party
with the midget you picked up
at the men’s shelter

But somehow
you underestimate
where the top step ends
and air begins
and your whole body
lunges forward
as though from the gallows
and all too soon you will be
making out
with the pavement
as the bottom step
rushes to greet you like
an anxious lover
and time seems to lag
so that you can
watch it all happening
like a nuclear bomb
or a nightmare
unfolding
in slow motion

as the mad symphony plays on…