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  • Jimmy Broccoli

It Is What I've Become

I wake up in my own vomit –

It’s on my shirt - it is all over much of my pants

and all over the floor around me –

it’s beneath me – I’ve been laying in it all night -

I wake up in my own vomit because that is what I do now

It is who I’ve become…

I’m lying in my living room floor face down and don’t remember coming home

“Fucking Hell”, I say aloud to a room empty, other than me –

I don’t even have a dog…

The motherfucking next-morning mirror doesn’t lie –

I look like fucking shit – my reflection is an advertisement for being a fucking loser –

I am not mis-categorizing myself – I know what I am


“Another pint, love?”, I say to the bartender –

She looks at me with a sideways glance –

“Just one more, love” I say – “then I’ll be on my way” –

She smiles and I tip her a fiver

As a boy I played with tiny cars –

metal, some of the doors opened –

and I played with trucks –

trucks that went over sand and mud in the backyard –

I played trucks and cars with my dad –

He died a few years ago

– we didn’t speak for years – but he tried – he did his best –

I have no remaining ill-feelings towards him –

he tried. and I loved him, I suppose –

it’s what we do, I think

“Last call” the bartender announces to the few of us left…

I walk home slowly because the world seems a bit of a blur –

Tomorrow I’ll wake up to a spinning room – I’ll wake up to vomit –

because that is what I do now – that is who I am –

and I’m okay with that – I’ve come to terms with it


“I wish your life was better”, the man says – and I can barely hear him…

“I’m okay mate”, I respond as I try to get up from the sidewalk – and I’m squinting because the morning sun is fucking bright as fuck –

“I’ll take you home”, he says – “what is your address?”

“Cheers”, I say – and this is the last memory I have until I wake in my bed

It’s a fucking workday – I’m late, but I make it…

My boss is all up in her tits and I don’t know how to respond –

“Fucking hell”, I say – and it doesn’t go over well –

An early day home for using profanity at work – I’m okay with that –

I stop by the mini-market for a bottle – no, I stop by the mini-market for 2

“I fucking got this”, I tell myself aloud as I walk home

“life isn’t fucking shit”, I say aloud – and I’m not convincing anyone…


The neighbor’s dog is fucking loud as fuck in the morning –

barking like fucking titties in a fucking twist –

“Shut up”, I respond – “shut the motherfuck up”, I say –

– and the dog continues to bark…

“I need a fucking drink” I say aloud

It’s Thursday, and I’m sober until the end of the workday –

On my way home I stop at the pub –

“A double”, I say as I pull bills from my pocket –

“A double?”, the bartender asks, as she looks at me like she’s worried

“I’m okay, love”, I respond to a question that wasn’t asked

I light a cig and look out the pub window as if there is a purpose to look out the window


“It’s because I’ve got a big motherfucking dick” I say to the small congregation around the bar

“That’s it!”, the bartender says as she escorts me to the front door –

“I can’t help that I’ve got a big motherfucking dick”, I slur –

she smiles at me like she’s empathizing with a dog –

“Okay”, I say – and, then, I stumble home

Because that is what I do nowadays

It is who I’ve become


It’s 4:00 pm and I’m off work early for appearing intoxicated on the job –

“I’ll have a double”, I tell the bartender –

She looks at me, hesitantly, and smiles –

“Okay”, she says – “one, and then you go home…”

“Yeah, one”, I say – and I almost hold to my commitment

It would be different now if he had breathed –

So different now if his breath hadn’t stopped –

If I didn’t see my newborn son turning blue…

And have to watch his mother fall apart as I was falling apart –

If he was still with us…

If only he was still here –

Fucking hell. Fucking fuck all of it.

Fucking fuck it – fuck all of it

He isn’t here anymore – she isn’t here any longer –

Why? Just why?

“A second one, love?”, I ask – and she pours me a second with an empathetic grin…

She smiles at me – and it’s the highlight of my day


Sometimes there is nothing a man can do –

Sometimes the way things are – are the way things are –

A fucking short draw of the fucking straw

I watched his face turn blue…

“A double”, I request – and she smiles and prepares my drink –

“You be careful”, she suggests – and I tell her I will be –

“An’ no more talkin’ about your knob to the other customers, eh?”, she follows with a smile

“Yeah, I can do that”, I reply

There will be vomit on my shirt tonight – and on my pants –

and all over my wooden floors -

If I remember how I got home, I’ll be lucky –

And I don’t care – I don’t really fucking care –

His face turned blue – and he died – and she left me

It’s who I am –

It’s what I’ve become

It is what I’ve become –

And that is just how it is

Photo: Jimmy Broccoli

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