Thursday, July 09, 2015


One Last Chance to Drink More Than Just Toast

This rare about-face
should have placed me
at mere consensus.

Yet here I am, as usual,
clumsily slumped at the
odd end of the parlor,

as if on the dark side
of the moon.  But not
in a good way.  Nope.

I’m as taut as a ball
of rubberbands and
as parched as a saltine

in the Sahara.  Scorched!
And utterly sober.  Too
too utterly (as in dry-

humping an Egyptian
pyramid whilst simul-
taneously finishing off

the bottom of a bag of
salt & vinegar-flavored
potato chips).    {gasp?}