Written February 7, 2015
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 a six-pack.
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.