An Alcoholic’s view of Moderation


Working on two new novels now as I submit and query THE THINPLACE. Have two agents with requested partials - fingers crossed.  

The new novels are FEAR and The Raven: The Recluse.  Both are going well.  Thought I would post one of my favorite poems in the meantime.  

Its an oldie but a goodie.


An Alcoholic’s view of Moderation

The architects of genocide never understood the laws of sarcasm in grade school so they filled empty corners and sat against brick walls plotting against the world. 

The foolish girls chew gum and babble nonsense to one another, their words only bouncing and bouncing off each other; dressed to copy Barbie and just as heartless.

Our lives are priceless and curiosity is imbued in our humanity, knocking with our consciousness and probing for discovery.

But we keep ourselves busy with pride and follow protocol for the sake of protocol.  We chase happy apples to dead ends then draw borders claiming God’s creation for the sake of order and in doing so lose order; because when man is given authority he corrupts and abuses, but when man is given responsibility he serves.

My elderly neighbor walked his springy puppy this morning and the imagery of opposites flooded my imagination and I couldn't rub two pennies together to make any sense of it.

The sky opens up and we fall on our knees, always thinking the long arm of the law could never reach us.  The insane anticipate the apocalypse unable, or unwilling, to fear God’s wrath: 

and the springy puppy just keeps bouncing; completely content with sunshine and green grass. 

But what man has done with choice rippled generations into misconceptions and depressions.  Busy, busy bees stuck in a honeycomb cluster filled with white noise and timecards, with gasoline and politics and demonocracy.  Marriages for the sake of feeling and divorce for the sake of money leave gunpowder trails to packed prisons in an alcoholic’s view of moderation.


Thanks for reading.

Stay alive,

-M.P. Callender