A Drunkard’s Prayer

We drink
To know we are not alone
A poet once said
Or something along those lines

Can be a man’s best friend
At least when there’s no dog
Or woman around

Can be a fine mistress too
All fun and no responsibilities
Also an acceptable medium to have an existential crisis

Are a great escape to and from reality
The world is the biggest screen
And the best actors are method actors

Are more like best friends
The kind that will always be there for you
No matter how far you’ve wandered off the path

I know, I know
The way is narrow
But there’s a brave new world
Just over the border

Sometimes you have to cross it
To know what you’ve left
To get far enough away from a thing
To appreciate it

Freedom is deceiving
It’s hard to discern
When we’re receiving God’s grace
Or rejecting it

Sometimes sex has nothing to do with love
There’s a certain honesty in that
We are more than the sum of our body parts
But everyone, I mean everyone loves tits

The point is
We don’t have to pretend
We don’t like something
When we do

Is only a sacrifice
When you love
To fuck

Is also a sacrifice
But only when you love God
More than your wife and children

Is just another altered state of consciousness
People are fake
And waste their life doing dumb shit

Is truthfulness
The mask
That reveals the man

If you’re still reading this
You and I might be drinking buddies
Prayer partners
Or at least WhatsApp pen pals

This confession is sure to ruffle a few mantillas
Offending holy modesty
Like "I’m just a male lesbian
Trapped in a female lesbian’s body"

They say crazy people
Don’t know they’re crazy
On the other hand
Saints don’t know they’re saints

Once an alcoholic
Always an alcoholic
I don’t know about that
I've met a lot of ex-Catholics

Everything in moderation
Even moderation
That’s a good one
Let’s not forget it

There’s a fine line
Between use and abuse
I’ve crossed that border too
Looking back, both ways, with loathing and desire

Is too much of a good thing, I guess
Obsession with health
Is also unhealthy, you know

What’s the point in drinking
If not to get drunk
I mean
The kind that’s not sinful

The level of intoxication
That overthrows false piety
But gives you the courage
To be true to yourself

To quit lying
To everyone else
Because they already know
What you now see for the first time

That religion
Was never designed
To make you perfect
But to keep you humble

Never to judge anyone
But to truly love everyone
Not romantically or even with feeling
But with mercy and compassion

Because sin is a sickness
And not a moral infraction
The mystery of salvation
Is that healing is a wound

The medicine
Is in the disease
It’s all how we endure pain
That determines its efficacy

The great physician
Bore our infirmities
Christ, who became man
So that man could become God

Let’s not forget
Jesus’s first miracle
Was turning water to wine
And He saved the best for last

This is holiness
The image and likeness of God
To hide one’s divinity
And to be one with your fellow man


When I drink
Something similar happens
I empty myself of my self
And my body and soul is filled with love

Like a monk in his prayer corner
A priest at the altar
A server at a soup kitchen
Christ at the right hand of the Father

Who continues to give Himself to us
In the form of bread and (yes) wine
The kind in the Orthodox service

Leavened and hot
From the chalice with a spoon
Divine Mysteries
Holy Communion

All that to say
I pray
This I why I get drunk
Every Monday through Saturday

As a confession
In preparation
For the Lord’s Day

Where we
The Body of Christ
All recovering addicts of some kind
Drink from one cup

Broken bread
And poured-out wine
To know we are not alone
Or something along those lines

22 May 2019
9:00 AM