The Drunkard

There’s the private persona and the public persona and the two shall never meet.–Liev Schrieber
by Dave H

You know him

like a neighbor

you chat with occasionally.

He seems to be a “swell guy”

with  splendid wit,

comic brilliance,

that invokes a laugh.


You think to yourself:

He’d be the ideal person,

the perfect invite

to your party.


But you don’t know that

when the attention shifts,

after the clapping grows silent,

and  the spot lights are dimmed,

he’ll return home,

to be greeted by silence,

as though walking

on to an empty stage of a theatre.


He’ll remove the mask

of his public persona,

pour himself a double-scotch,

a daily habit,

begin to drink himself

into oblivion,

contemplate the lack of laughter

in his own sad life.


About Dave Hood

Lover of poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction. Professional photographer and writer. Without the arts, life would be rather mundane, like a walk down the same old path on a dull day.
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