My father and I are great roommates,
stay up late
watching Seinfeld, SNL, and Letterman.
All our cereal bowls are dirty.
We just rinse as we go.
No need to stress.
One day strange sounds
come from the living room.
I round the corner to find Dad
sitting on the couch
with a squirming kitten for me
ribbon tied clumsily
round itty neck.
My shrieks of glee
send bitty legs pumping.
AA Dad introduces
his merry band of recovery friends
with slogans and optimism and rueful honesty,
the funniest drinking stories . . .
. . . and the most devastating. Lives and loves and
families lost to addiction
powerful regret punching
through the slim veneer
of happiness.
Relapse
waiting around every corner
like a wild bear.