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A Family (Rattle Dreams)

We All Drink Alone

She wakes, turning over in sleep many times each night not because of the dreams, not because they disturb her tender-soft rhythms, she wakes because she is restless, she wakes because she is always tired,

the smoky blues singer in the local lounge the tired beat cop thinking about his pension the witty lawyer working on cases late at night the lonely housewife wondering where her husband is the handsome aristocrat handling his empire the disheveled cashier full of dreams at Walmart the fire captain trying to keep up the moral the average mail carrier kept under duress the pizza delivery boy attempting to be bold the unlicensed mechanic never finalizing jobs the typical gambler hoping for something sensational the lesbian bartender that gets bored at night the head chef that schmoozes all day the liquor store clerk that expects a perk the wood worker who deals with imbeciles the bank teller that counts deposits subliminally the seasoned corn farmer that feels he’s finished the old day trader that thinks he’s been had the scrawny sandwich maker at the corner deli the nursery guy that helps dull people nurture the lead singer that can’t stand the spotlight the Toto fan that has no taste for their new album

She has dreamt that I murder her, not violently, but with fondness, gently put hands around her neck, considerate not to cause discomfort, I lay her face affably beneath the water, I smiled, she smiled, no resistance, no hesitation, from either set of hands, a muse? She has dreamt that we had a little dirt root cellar, and we buried bones beneath the earth, mostly little bones, little skulls, tiny phalanges, and one day I came down, fever-sweats of rage, while she struggled hopelessly and cried, trying to hide her body, heaping dirt atop her body and making mandalas with her pinched tears I was angry and she was sorry, None of this disturbed either of us, but I thought later that I should have been disturbed. ---n.v. baker

we should feel sorry for some but also watch out for them they could be beautiful humans or wild sociopaths maybe we’re all a strange breed, seeking hope and wonder or it’s possible that we want to go numb and feel nothing some of us find it sexy and some find it necessary we’ve all been there at some point or another I don’t judge anyone based on alcohol intake, I enjoy it myself sometimes it’s more fun to be alone with your thoughts and your booze

----Jason Bertucci

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Peacheslitmag issue #2  

Peacheslitmag issue #2