we drink each Friday night: we drink to forget the dead end jobs that pay our bills we drink to laugh, though we sometimes cry we drink for courage we drink to slough off this weight we carry for people who do not have food or water or alcohol to forget. we forget for a while. in the morning we joke that we drank too much and next weekend, we will do something else. we will ice skate in winter or swim in the summer (though we sometimes swim drunk) my friends, drinking is not the ailment, it is not the cure. it is a medical drip on dying youth. the urge to drink will pass with my convictions and thoughts about those I cannot see or hear, but know are suffering. I raise my glass to you, my friends, because we drink for all the right reasons with all the wrong results: headaches and nausea and inactivity we drink each Friday night. we drink to quench a thirst for justice that will never exist. we drink because it feels good and naughty we drink because it feels impetuous and free, teenagers in a first car, college kids at a rave, not near thirty-somethings disenfranchised with the life they were born into. we drink each Friday and I start missing it on Monday. First published in Nervehouse, 2004.