Fallout (Crank 3)

Maybe even by my

own hand, if things

turned too, too bleak.

But now I want to

live. Want to love.

Want to be loved.

I have to keep on

riding this train

for that to happen.

TRAINS LIKE THIS

Generally wreck sooner or later.

So far so good, though.

Grandfather has not missed

the short pours of whiskey

I’ve indulged in lately. They say

liquor is quicker, and whiskey

is definitely quicker than champagne

when it comes to a good buzz.

A shot or two, nothing scares me,

nothing hurts me. I like how that feels.

The weird thing is, Grandfather’s

own drinking has waned. It’s as if

the wedding planning has reduced

his stress. I don’t understand why.

I do know I’ll have to find a way

to replace what I’ve taken from

the liquor cabinet before he swings

the other way again. Bound to happen

after tomorrow. Once the wedding

is over. The reception done,