It began to snow.
I would have been buried in it
if I hadn't been moving.
When I did stop,
I took a sip
of rum and
threw it up in an alley.
It was the result
of a 20 day drunk.
I had to do it.
I was in Chicago
and I didn't know
if I'd ever be back,
so I wiped off my mouth
and took another sip.
It stayed down.
I wasn't buried.
The snow was beautiful
and so were those lonely nights
drenched in the blues.
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