Hugh had always had an odd bond with his tipple
for it brought as much misery as it cured
And as his dinner crusted on his lips
he wondered
How is it that
the mind can be so fragile
yet the body so resilient?

He embraced the porcelain throne
with one part dead liver
and one part dead soul
descending down the drain
And he wished that
more of him would follow suit
But he will live on
to see the next day
and his relationship with the bottle
and his sorrow
would begin anew.