Now I think it is a very silly thing
to allow this much alcohol into my blood.
Started out with a sip, a gulp, then a mugful.
But since this year, I find some strange joy
sharing a bottle of beer with my father,
sitting on a bench in the compound, watching
the sunset. All the things I have been fighting
against, I have come to see, is the stillwater
I must wade to stand in this stained light.
Of all things, my father did not teach me this;
I had to pick up the bottle where sobriety fell
out of my body. And today I picked the bottle
like a baseball bat, my grip was a hoax.
Of all things I am scared of, it is living
someone else’s life I can not endure.
Now I can not help but think how silly this is—
sitting here among old men and young men,
among fathers and brothers, all holding bottles;
the cheer and jeer. There is no fire in my veins yet.
One bottle down, and I think, this is not a bad idea.
I am holding the bottle like a baseball bat, knowing
the difference between a swig and a swing;
contemplating the distance between a weapon
and a joystick. You see, because, like everyone else
I would not want to turn out a poor player.
Now, here in this crowd of familiar strangers,
I am learning how to become what I was born to be.
Precious Chidera Harrison is a poet and artist born and raised in Port Harcourt, Nigeria. He won the maiden edition of the Pawners Paper Contest (Poetry Category). He was shortlisted for the 2024 edition of the Chukwuemeka Akachi Prize for Literature. He was an honorable mention in the inaugural Rhonda Gail Williford Prize, 2023. He is a 2024 SprinNG fellow, and a member of the Hilltop Creative Arts Foundation. His works have been published or are forthcoming in online and print journals like Anthropocene Poetry, Haunted Words, The Muse Journal, Eunoia Review, Bleating Thing Magazine, Brittle Paper, FERAL Journal, IHRAM Publishes, Swim Press, and SprinNG.