The Bunny can’t drive

At least for awhile.

Chosen driver, I sit outside the Meeting

And watch.

They assemble each in the moment, forgiving of the past, jonesin’ for a future.

The Meeting is about to begin. Funny I realized they remain strangers to each other at the Meeting, but remember inside with the grinning devil buried deep in a crevice of just how it felt.

And with every past loss, the devil’s grin grews. With every numbing swallow or puncture needle stab, more lost like chips on a sculptor’s floor, littered shards of stone marble until only a devil smile is left to reveal

and they face a real choice.

Live in pain release and freedom and die or head to the silence and the Moment of the meeting.

Addicts are so in touch.

Narcissistic, no thought of bugs (unless they were junkies)

Self-possessed, trying to calm and make sense of senseless.

But they still glow flashed electric.

Sparking hot flash fire then cold ash

Repeat until dead.


Some nervously gather in groups

twitch smoking,

Sucking just a bit deeper’

just a tinge of panic.

Remembering the time between sips,

Like it mattered, cursing inside

At promises broken to love and lovers

And suck just a bit deeper.

And at the invisible tick..(pause…wait) tock, it is time to head in for the good seat

Hurry up to get the good seat.

Where they watch and pretend with masked sheepish face

to be called to share what they had practiced between sips.

As lovers left them to the moment.

And then like the quiet brought by an ocean of booze or a mountain of pills or Coke’s snow

sparkle, they are gone.


One late-comer sucks a cloud of vap with a smile. One comes to talk on a phone that never

rung to be joined by another, in bond

Waiting to get back to the sip or the sniff or to reach out waiting to share.

Another spry and clean goes into the Meeting door and before I can look up…she leaves.

She touched the coffin of the saint, she made a noise of one uncomfortable from sitting till a hundred sheepish faces turned

And she left. Church is over another day. Obligation of the few minutes spent with those

trying to kill the screams inside complete.

She leaves and returns to her madness.

The Meeting is over and post-mingle post-nerves hover outside metal doors.

Outside the Meeting, air returns to birds nervous and cars rushing past, late and rushing


And the silence. Inside the Meeting they are quiet. Walls tire and sigh and rinse clean the

judgements of others.

The unknown released from the moment and the Meeting, pause

They pray to take back time lost.

They pray to get back to feeling a tree and a breeze and saying clearly, Hello.

And the door opens and again and again and the birds sit silent.


New nervous ones have started to gather.

And they smoke shakey and wait their turn in the Meeting.





One thought on “Meeting

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