the days of wine and creamed filled donuts

addicted
to cake
you find yourself
in an alley
one morning,
lying along
a curb
with icing on
your face.
empty boxes
of pastries
beside you.
a dog
is licking your
chin and
several cats
are eyeing
you from
afar. you pull
yourself togther
and stand up,
wobbly,
and weak,
trembling from
low blood sugar.
you brush
the crumbs from
your shirt
and go forward,
one step, one
day at a time.