• Jimmy Broccoli

Hello, My Name is Jimmy, and I Don’t Fucking Know What I Am

Alcoholic – Alcoholism:


Such dramatic, cruel and judgmental words on the lips of pious mother fucking assholes. They can all go eat a dick or fuck themselves – or go fuck a reindeer for all I fucking care.


“Hey man, there’s a meeting tonight. Why don’t you join me? There’s free coffee – and we’d be sober – at least for a little while.”


Me, a sober man – wouldn’t that be a fucking punchline?

What would that even look like (?), I ponder


Me - the classy guy about town now? – wishing folks on the street a good morning

And being…sober – and then, me…doing sober activities like –

I don’t know –

Like, going into a retail store and buying a shirt and not being drunk -

I don’t know what a sober me would look like – would I smile more? Be happier or take out the trash more often? Have more friends and ride my bike to the grocery?

______________


This isn’t a memory – this is happening in real time. Do you know what I mean?

______________


Would I part my hair differently or be resigned to purchase summer sweaters?

Maybe I could get a college degree – or be a professor – of anything

Or, at least, maybe I could wake up and not vomit so often

Or get visitation rights to see my boy again


What would a sober me even look like?


Would I be handsomer or, perhaps taller – because I’d have better posture - or have a better, more manly and in control wave as I greet my neighbors –

as I mow the front lawn without falling over and fucking everything up


Perhaps I’d be a gentleman, distinguished. In public, ladies would see me do elegant things in the way sober people do them – however they do them – and we’d all be friends and me, drinking water with lemon or lime or whatever the fuck gentlemen drink – and we could read books together and…we could read them like we thought it was fun. And we wouldn’t be drinking alcohol while reading them. And then – while sober – we could talk about the stories – and laugh and then go home and still not be drinking. And then smile and then – go to bed in the way sober people do. I hear they do this, and I highly suspect they are not lying.


And I don’t understand a fucking word of any of it. Not a fucking word.

______________


Okay –


How do I write the sound of me exhaling?

______________


I’ve done this for so long


I’m scared to death – I can’t help but see my health declining. People I know – when was the last time I saw hope in anyone’s eyes when they looked in my direction? I don’t know – since – I don’t know. I just don’t.


- I’ve always drank – a lot - every day

And I’ve been okay with it – and – right now – I’m really uncomfortable about all of this


I don’t have to be a professor – and maybe summer sweaters aren’t horrible. What would a sober me even look like?

____


But – no more (I’ve decided) – I want to be someone different

Someone better – a better human being

For me – for my son – for whoever the fuck says hello

Maybe I can kind of start over…


Maybe,


Me, no longer falling down the front steps – and the hangovers

And the fender benders after midnight after I’ve run out of wine

To get more at the all-hours liquor store


Here and now - I commit – I promise to the heavens and to the great universe and to everything that matters and to whoever may be listening - to never drink another drop of alcohol

for as long as I may live


I’ve smashed all the wine glasses in the sink and have gone online to buy the summer sweaters – I WILL NOT FAIL!


And, magically, I turn into a dog


Photo: Jimmy Broccoli


4 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All