Gin as Tonic

It moves like hypnotism down the throat,

Like fuzzy ecstasies that stroke the tongue

Along their way.  A beauty soon begins to bloat

The brain like sugared peace and mist among

The nagging weights, those boring days, the nights

Of brownish worry and entrapment in

The doom of treadmill’s lack of singing heights.

The drink erases, gently, guilt and sin

For long enough to give a silk relief.

If not quite joy, it’s still akin to thrills.

It may not be as urgent as a lead grief

But better than the doctor’s doled out pills.

..It’s so much better than escape from stress

….Because it also means she might say yes.