Drunk Again

At this point, things have gone too far.
The faces all around me are grotesque.
The music's much too loud. My friends
Have gone. The woman I had hoped
To coax to my apartment, somewhat
Mousy but attractive, seems to want
To edge away. Too bad. I say, to hell
With her. I'll have another drink. To do
So, I will have to labor to appear coherent.
Surely, someone here will humor me,
A bar maid or a bartender. It's not
As if I'll drive back home. I'll walk.
Okay, I'm apt to stagger. Anyway,
The universe, as prophesized, begins
To swirl. I suppose I should go home,
And, likewise, I should say that I am
Sorry that I've gotten drunk, but I
Don't care. I spy the mousy woman
As I lurch toward the door. She's like
A thoroughbred with blinders on,
She won't see me. Her loss, I say.
I wave then throw up in the alley.
In the morning, I'll be fine. She'll
Be stuck somewhere, sniffing cheese,
Alone. She could have staggered home
With me. Instead, she'll go to work
Tomorrow, wondering why she isn't happy.
I could tell her, but I won't. She wants
No part of me.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 62 times
Written on 2020-09-04 at 03:04

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