Table of Contents

Brian the Writer

Happy Hours

Brian McCorkle

I got the news today
of how she died. And,
how she smashed her nose
when she fell.

Those Happy Hours
of half price drinks
we were two ice cubes
melting together

Oh yes, the news
after she fell. And,
how she choked
on her own vomit.

Those Happy Hours
super quick drunk
we were bourbon and brandy
burning blue

I also heard that
before she died,
a rock hard liver jutted
from her side.

Those Happy Hours
lasted too long
we became two faces
looking away

Thin grey hair
age forty three,
alone in her room
at the Menasha Hotel
First Appeared in Ego Trips Number Three (Autumn 2004)
Experimental Literary Journal of the Fox Valley Writers Club (Wisconsin)