June 26, 2004

Hangovers

This is a rough draft of a poem, which will be way longer than it is here. Repeat: VERY ROUGH DRAFT

Hangovers

Go straight to my ass.
I wake up, and maybe my mouth tastes
juniper, or the no-taste of refined potato.
But my ass, already lumpy and irritable,
bubbles loud farts out into my crack
making it itch all day, shitting small husks
of last night, splashing toilet water, wheezing
on the wooden seat
slammed over the rim. Drooling like a man
in his sleep, a thin clear ribbon down one cheek, enough for others
to notice, yet the man, sleeping, indulges in the appearance of dreams.

Posted by matty-b at June 26, 2004 7:30 PM
Comments

I really think you should publish this poem somewhere. F-ing brilliant.

Posted by: michael at June 26, 2004 9:16 PM

I have published it -- right here. :)

Posted by: matt at June 27, 2004 3:23 PM