The Toast

The Toast

We took a sober approach to the awards ceremony,
not letting him make a fool of himself, and we were
the only ones that noticed his eyes flicker toward the exit
a little too often, and the way he rubbed the chest
of his dress coat, as though thinking, but really
touching a flask of crown royal.
He was the chief toast at the ceremony, but back home,
his glass hand waving like a flag, he saluted retirement
and we all laughed at his demonstration of Doc Willard,
wiping a tear from his eye, raining praise at the empty
space of his competition.
When I hugged him good night, the steady pace
of his large heartbeat thumped against my heart, where
I inhaled the familiar smell of cigarettes and liquor
in the warm groove of his neck.
Later when I walked home, something stayed in my throat,
like a prayer, the kind you can't quite visualize,
the sort that lodges there.

Reviews

[Bud]

For every chapter that closes, another begins. And if the book should come to an end, then there sequels to be written. This one sort of gave me mixed feelings in the form of a small lump in my throat, as well. That last ditch effort for society to place a crown on an individual fellow member of society... retirement. It's the signal that cannot be ignored. It is the warning that our time allotment is coming upon us quickly. I can only imagine what may go through a persons mind at that point. I know at 40 I have had quite a bit on my mind as of late. Mortality becomes much more clear as each day passes. Then again, I'm too young to actually feel so much older. Life can wear you wet, and thin and then throw you away without a thought. Here's wishing you and him wonderful days in your Golden period. May it be most capitol, and of the quality of Platinum.
Remarkably Magnificent piece.

[W.k.kortas]

Wonderfully visual piece, wry, reflective, and restrained, and the final three lines are tinged with the singular magic of Venablese. Fine, fine piece of writing.

[Jibey]

Clever writing - as always - capturing an occasion, a person, an experience, an emotion... So well done...

[Emily B]

we have all these portraits of people we've known, they spill onto the page and we're never quite sure what to do with them . . .

such a visceral experience, I smelled him through the embrace