We all tied one on after you told me that you lost the baby and how the ultra sound showed an empty sack and debris floating around.
"I'm really drunk," you said as almost daddy started warning us about addictions and the loss of creative geniuses "gone too soon." Peeking over my scotch, the ice-cubes imploded when he said, "Imagine if they were alive. Hendrix, Janis....Sylvia Plath…"
I hadn't opened my mouth much until I said, "It would really fuck up the head in the oven poem I wrote." I'm no genius but I've lived to say inappropriate things.
Timothy Gager has been widely published in print and electronic journals. He lives at www.timothygager.com.