"This is the hole.
Or did she? Through the "hours of penance" that is alcoholism and its attendant chaos-math and aftermaths, recurrent false dawns and falsetto damnations, Elisabe.
She died.
I go there after dinners Before school --- mid work day After lunch with the boss Mondays The hole has Hangover coal To paint my face to smudge In the acne, rosacea, colloscum" "Alcoholic Betty, we know the story.
I go there On Sundays. "This is the hole