She drinks a quart of vodka every night,
except when she de-toxes with a fast
confined to juice or celery – the right
and wrong are rules she buys that never last.
Imbibing till she passes out, she wakes
to pour a nightcap for an antsy head.
She fears insomnia; she says it takes
another drink escorting her to bed.

Besides, she says, her mate of 40 years
would probably divorce her if she quit.
They know each other’s habits; it appears
each thinks the other’d be inadequate
to change. She blames malaise on meals and spouse,
and won’t regard the mammoth in her house.