Nineteenth July

at least i don’t hope to die this time.

when i was twenty-one
i stormed out of the empty office
in the Institut für Physikalische
und Theoretische Chemie
to the Billa for 3 L.

i shoved the Gösser in the freezer
and pulled out the last Stiegl
that i’d finish far too soon.

fifteen hundred mils is not too much
for a 115-pound girl in one hour.

i would’ve grabbed one more Gösser–
or maybe four–
had my roommate not come home.

tonight my roommate won’t come home,
but i’ll stop at three hundred fifty-five
and a shot five hours ago.

i will and i do,
because my goals are different now,
as i push twenty-five
and know better.

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