Hi! My name is Rosie.
My real name is Ethyl.
Some people call me Bud.
Some of you know me well.
As a matter of fact,
more than ten million of you know me intimately.
I've been acquainted with
some of you since you were youngsters.
Some think I am a terrible monster
and do battle with me daily.
Others consider me their best friend.
They love me so much that they would die for me.
I possess great power.
I can control your bodies and your minds.
Yet many of you delude yourselves into believing
that you can control me.
I can slowly, surreptitiously
take ten years off your life,
or I can take you down just like that,
with just the turn of a wheel
or the click of a pistol.
I can break your heart and wreck your marriage.
You might lose your
mind and your job and your home,
but you won't be alone.
You'll have me to comfort you
in your pain and your shame.
Push away your loved ones,
push away your friends,
but don't push away that drink.
With a flick of the wrist,
I'll help you forget what is too painful to remember.
Don't think about the angry words,
the door slammed on the way out.
Don't think about the close call
with that crazy driver on the way home.
Don't think about the promises that have been broken,
Come to me,
and I'll ease your mind,
really I will.
My venom coursing through your veins
can pickle your brain and rot your liver.
But my potion,
like a genie conjured from the magic bottle,
can make you feel so good,
you won't even know how sick you are.
I can distort your personality,
make you feel witty and clever,
but your friends will think you're an obnoxious fool.
I can waste your talents,
warp your judgment,
and you will be totally oblivious
to the effects I have on you,
and on your loved ones as well.
They also feel the not-so-subtle touch of my wrath.
I scream at your children,
I slap your spouse.
I even mangle the bodies and scramble the brains
of your babies yet unborn,
as they wait to escape
my silent destruction
while breathing me into their tiny, helpless bodies.
I can be fun sometimes too.
Take me out tonight.
I'll show you how to party!
Pop my top.
I smell so sweet!
Taste my tingle.
I'll make you feel so good.
I can relieve your stress,
help you relax and loosen up a little.
Throw away your inhibitions.
I'll even make you feel sexy.
I can seduce you with a desire that'll
make you want to give up everything for me.
You'll have fun with me ...
if it's the last thing you do.
by Teresa Kellerman, 1994 or thereabouts
Grieving the Loss of the Dream