Alcoholism became my religion the day the PBS tradition ended.
I was sent to schools, to see the scrolls that sooted hands had wrote, 
but all I learned was the boat so, I took a sip.
Big shots of Bacardi showered my insides for hours as 
hot beads of sweat began to form.
I started rapidly racing, Big Bird, Ernie, The Count, and those …. Letter People.
Black letters on white pages, rhyme on prose; something about colonization,
created a cold. And in my hand I did so hold—a glass…
And to my lips passed that fine ass woman Gin, and boy did I begin to sin.
See, I got greedy and tried to gulp her—but she came back up 
like Miss. Piggy or Kermit the Frog on stage.
My mental became enraged when I learned about that cage—society.
Treats me unfairly so I lived off of things like t.v. and Sesame Street.
This poem was brought to you today, by the letters—E. and J.
I erked and jerked on junkies, and economic flunkies that enveloped educational degrees…
But their degrees meant nothing compared to the heat
my religion had brought to me.
I was shaken and stirred, had sudden words with Susan and Grover;
but the vodka verified the road to relief.
Then there was the ripple—having simple, pimple popping conversations with Mr. Rogers.
Because he was my neighbor. And wanting to be neighborly 
I asked him to have a seat, and drink with me.
So we had a seat and sipped on long island ice-teas; till the sun set, and the moon rose.
Next thing I know I’m getting tested on how plants grow—
6Co2+6H2O makes C6H12O6….
Man this shit was sick, I needed a gold flask by age one six.
But then my liver pulled a trick.
And under the spell of sobriety, the doctor looked at me and asked,
“Son, what you doin’ with your life??”
I answered him,
“The only thing I know is right. T.V. tellin’ me I’m entertainment in Black f-a-c-e,
religion hatin’ fast livin’, sinnin’, and women, with easy access to wetness.  
So tell me I’m blessed when my chest is stressed from the hog maws 
and drinkin’…hell thinkin’ got my head on blast..
So excuse me if SBP and these intoxicating drinks put me at ease.
If you feel you can get on your knees and pray for me. But I ain’t gonna stop doc,
it don’t matter if this one man just drop. 
These eyes are gonna remain blood shot. The best thing you can do for me 
is get me a Hennesse on the rocks….”
Alcoholism became my religion the day the PBS tradition ended.