hung

hung

in vino veritas, a dude say this
if he messed up big time and
realized what an asshole
he was the last night,

and between the busted lip
i’m still trying to figure out
how i got it
and
the asshole
on a large fucking scale
that i happened to
channel
is some poetic place
where the humor
found in self – deprecation
can be championed
and a universal belief
that no one
can deny the asshole
in everyone
because after all,
everybody has one
or so they say ;

and i’m pretty sure
there’s poetry to milk
from this headache
just like the poetry on looking
at oneself in a mirror
and talking to yourself
and somehow managed
to interrupt your own
fucking
conversation

or maybe it ain’t poetry
at all but just me
talkin’ with my head
pretty close
to my ass
as my wife repeat the word
to me again and again,

but you know what,
in any given time of the day,
i will never trade in the
goddamn drunk asshole with the
goddamn drunk asshole
that talks behind my back.

that being said, now let me
wallow on the surprise of
having a chirped tooth as well.

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