Drunk’s Lament Justin Luftig
poem read by Timothy Arliss OBrien
Drunk’s Lament
Justin Luftig
A fire spits angry flames
like a drunk, slurring mean words
legato, tied together
flowing
pulled into speech by
a conductor
blaring his horn, desperately,
trying to slow the train
but poison slicked the tracks
In his glass eye was your reflection,
shrouded in light,
tickled by warmth,
that comes and goes
with the wind
On his breath, a sharp liquor
cutting through what is and what will be
without remorse for what was
a shaft of moonlight falls cold
on half his face, leaving the other,
in the darkness
He takes another sip
a drop escapes his mouth
riding down his thick, white beard
as he kicks his cane and continues
to hobble down the walk
Justin Luftig is a high-school student from Northern Virginia. He is currently unpublished but aspires to be
an established author one day.
