You do look a little ill.

But we can do something about that, now.   

Can’t we.

The fact is you’re a shocking wreck.   

Do you hear me.

You aren’t all alone.

And you could use some help today, packing in the   
dark, boarding buses north, putting the seat back and   
grinning with terror flowing over your legs through   
your fingers and hair . . .

I was always waiting, always here.   

Know anyone else who can say that.

My advice to you is think of her for what she is:   
one more name cut in the scar of your tongue.

What was it you said, “To rather be harmed than   
harm, is not abject.”


Can we be leaving now.

We like bus trips, remember. Together

we could watch these winter fields slip past, and   
never care again,

think of it.

I don’t have to be anywhere.

Franz Wright, “Alcohol” from Ill Lit: Selected and New Poems. Copyright © 1998 by Franz Wright. Reprinted with the permission of Oberlin College Press.
Source: Ill Lit: Selected and New Poems (Oberlin College Press, 1998)
More Poems by Franz Wright