I’m drinking too much again. I don’t get blitzed, but every sunset is a new bottle. Who am I kidding? The caps are torn loose before the sun meets the horizon. “I’m having a few and wishing that you were here…” From my balcony, I hear I’m not the only one. There’s a party in the yard to the right. I wonder how many bottles before they forget to stay six feet apart. “Yes, I’m being a fool, just hoping that you’ll appear…” I’m drinking too much again. I’m on the fritz with the shift of this new world. The silence clamors and nothing aligns except the sun still meets the horizon. “And ain’t got nothing but a memory…” From my balcony, I hear I’m not the only one. There’s a party in the apartment to the left. I wonder how many bottles before they forget to stay six feet apart. “I know you heard me the first time…” I’m drinking too much again.
Alisha Escobedo (she/her/hers) received her MFA from Antioch University Los Angeles. Her work explores themes of queer womanhood, generational trauma, and addiction, and can be found in The Acentos Review, The Los Angeles Press, and Desolate Country: We the Poets, United, Against Trump. She sporadically posts/deletes photos to/from her IG @ayescobe.
Featured Photo by Fernando Latorre on Unsplash