Poem: I Used To Drink A Lot And Once It Probably Saved My Life
A poem about the time we were burgled
One morning we woke up and we had
been burgled. Someone broke in and
entered — taking devices and wallets;
two people actually, the police would
confirm later. And they got a big
boot print off our windowsill, which
would lead to arrests. I didn’t feel
like the man of the house, a mild
whisky hangover meaning I missed
it all. From a borrowed computer, I
told social media, and helped the
police with their inquiries. They told me
this sophisticated team carried weapons
and would use them if needed. I guess
the best news about not ever trying to
be a hero means there’s a few extra
chances to get to be the man of
the house; if not the man of the hour.