High Times

I sit here, as my insides come out amongst company,
--I had forgotten they were there, is what it was--
I'm not an animal, I swear, I really do care.

Yes, the party was amazing, I danced
I inhaled I imbibed I worked on my night moves
I imbibed again I ate I danced some more I imbibed some more
I threw up and I fucked again, but I'm really only sure about half of that,
We don't want to sound too cool now... do we?

The night seemed crowded, swollen, and eager to leave.
Little does it know, I do my best work in crowded places.
With your sweat on mine I can change the world, but with my sweat on yours,
Good night; talk about a cig smoker at a fracking site in the middle of time square on the fourth of July in the middle of August in downtown Phoenix while your mother broils the thanksgiving turkey in a 1 bedroom apartment--

I look down at my bloated belly sitting on my hips,
"not too bad for a hot 22 year old" says I, aloud, to myself, and no one else.
What a time to be alive, where I can
break a heart and get my balls groped under the table at the same time.
Both Unwanted Novelties. Both Not As Fun As It Sounds.

With my eyes shut and my hands in my face,
I see whiskey raining down my ribcage,
wallets falling into bulimia faster than the average person could,
skin rippling from contact, sending shockwaves northward that form joker-like smiles,
the mountains of Appalachia coming alive around me...
Ben Franklin would be so proud.

Keegan Shaw 6/25/19