from The Pisces by Ben Gocker
…Sir Pots and Pans said he had the worst diet. He loved cookies, and he loved beer. And he said something like, ‘I drink a lot of beer. I drink beer until I become a much smaller man. Of course alcohol has a desiccating effect, it’s a diuretic, but in my case it deprives my system of more than just water; it removes this terrible mass of me from myself. I become a small man banished from his large self. I become a man of such incredibly diminutive stature that I am able to fit inside the mouth of my previously large face. I sit in there as though it is a cockpit, and my large body a machine I must pilot. But it’s not a machine, it’s a wreck, that body. A large, insensate, unresponsive, mountain of a body, one I hate and wish to be rid of. But I can’t. That small man beer makes me can never drink enough to turn into a puff of smoke, air, an afterthought; anything but this overmatched pilot operating a giant. And I, now, a very small, banished, mass-less, near vanished man, must try to control this old shell of me. That is how much I drink and that is how drunk I become.