Pickled

Pickled burps curl flies in mid air.
The white-haired drunk wears fruit salad --
thrown on his new leather shoes.
Pineapple chunks paint clear trails on the leather.
Marshmallow oozes
across the laces
and onto the carpet.

Drunk-red for a hug
A public bathroom, offspring, the librarian.
Sappy-drunk!
Who are you?

In lecture mode,
you're a magnifying glass
frying a leaf
in 50 degree weather.

You pass out on the couch
Pink lids: quiet and convenient.
Vodka
your favorite pillow, desert, child, lover,
e
ra
ser.

Then a twitch in your waxed mustache...
" Help me," you whisper into the clear bottle.
I'll watch
you die
And I guess I love you.