my body bangs and twitches   some brown liquor whets my tongue   my fingers find the stitches   firmly back and forth they run      i need no other memory   of the bits of me i left   when all this lethal drinking   is to hopefully forget    about you      i might as well admit it   like i even have a choice   the crew have killed the captain   but they still can hear his voice      a shadow on the water   a whisper in the wind   on long walks with my daughter      who is lately full of questions    about you      when job asked you question   you responded "who are you   to challenge your creator?"   well if that one part is true      it makes you sound defensive   like you had not thought it through   enough to have an answer   like you might have bit off   more than you could chew