in the religion
of drinking

comparisons
of alcohol's avatars

as if their essences
were not identical

are a bit of a laugh
to the clear-eyed

who just divide
spirit by price

as all the clever
theologians

are a laugh
to people whose

God reached
into the poisoned

whirlpool of
their existence

and pulled them
bare-knuckled

white-knuckled
out.

I like this very much.  Mostly because the last 5 stanzas are evidence that the narrator does indeed know what it's like to be saved by God.

Can truthfully say I'm glad you wrote this.  Means alot.

cheryl

Thanks for the read, Cheryl. Glad you enjoyed...Tom

tom, i'm not sure about you last line...not sure that keeping it as a single line is the best idea...continuing with the two line stanza you;ve used, would give you the slight pause you need between "white-knuckled" and "out".

white-knuckled
out.

Thanks very much for the suggestion, John. I made the change, will see how it feels....Tom

Can I throw my two cents in?  Ok, I will.  Tom I really like this poem, and I like the white/bare knuckles but I'm not particularly fond of those last two stanzas.  It's just uncomfortable.  Can you make your point without putting them so close together?

Two cents always welcome, C.! This is a pretty hairy thing I'm describing here, so that aspect of uncomfortable belongs, but as far as how it hits the ear etc., let me go listen and think...Thanks. Tom