No More, No More
(In Iambic Pentameter)

Richard K. Weems

I: Morning

My doctor says I drink too much.
"No more, no more," the doctor orders me.

II: Evening to Morning

My barman points. Another round? intoned.
(My guts I feel; they rot in flame and mange.)
"No more!" I cry. "I'll go," I cry. "I'll leave."
(My death I see---a sole, deserted plot.)
The barman smirks. I wet my soul with wine.

Copyright ©1999 Richard K. Weems. All Rights Reserved.

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September, 1999 Issue #41

64 Words

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