I seek counsel
Inside of taverns.
My shrink’s a barkeep.
My medicine burns,
But just the first sip
The next is smooth.
The bottom of the glass
Begins to soothe.
Anxiety subsides
By the next drink,
And that one’s gone
Within a blink.
“Fill ‘er up,
I’m almost there!”
Liquid courage
And not a care.
“I’ll have another…”
My words are slurred,
But lightweights stop
At the third.
I’m no quitter and
I can’t stop grinning,
Nor will the world
Keep from spinning.
My blues are cured,
I have angst no more,
Until morning when
I wake on the floor.