Mickey Ceasar

That last beer,
the coldest
bottle in the fridge,
so far back on
the bottom shelf
I was shoulder deep
just to grip it --

the one
I said I'd save
for you --

I drank it.

One chance
is what I thought.
One chance to get
everything right.

Fuck it.

Sometimes it don't
fall that way.

You know
what I mean,
my far-flung,
wind-tossed
brother.

You know
when lines
get short,
it's hard
to think.

Just
drink.