Three sheets to the wind!
Wasted though they might be called
but the taste of bliss only they have known.
Paralytic they may seem
but to the heights of paradise only they have flown.
While their heart is flooded with euphoria
and a freezing chill runs down their nerves,
experiencing a thousand explosions deep within,
spinning like a feather in an electrifying storm.
Beyond time and space their soul soars higher
fogging up their cognition,
clouding their vision with dreams,
tingling their souls with thrill and elation.
Drowning their sorrows,
they put quart into pint pots
soaking their lips and memories in cocktails,
tasting fireworks on the rocks.
Addict they are,
not for booze but for euphoria.
It is liquid courage that helps them
turn water into wine even under amnesia.
Wall-eyed they seem,
for thoughts and memories racing at breakneck speed
blind their vision with the flying images
but they continue drinking from the heaven’s brink.
“Name your poison” the bartender keeps asking
and they go on drinking like a fish,
screaming “down the hatch”!
and no matter what, they live their life as they wish.