After the
show the van
is packed
like sardines.
The smell
of cigarettes, sweat,
and booze render
the nose a poor option.
Mouth Breathing
is a much more logical.
Make haste
the liquor store closes in 15!
After sliding
24 packs, large bottles,
and cartons
of cigs
into the
unclaimed orifices
like
Tetris, we’re off.
Chicks and
a house party beckon
us onward.
Our consciences offer an alternative.
We agree
upon the former.
The night
fades, as do those who have consumed too much for one evening.
Only those
few, the proud, the degenerates
are still
standing in the wake,
sipping
from warm bottles,
fishing
roaches left in overfull ashtrays.
The sunrise
steals through the half broken blinds, shooting faint lasers
that
reflect off the dark bottles and patented leather pants that lay by the couch.
Bodies
entangled rise and fall with the heavy,
rough
breathing of chain smokers.
With names
unknown to each other they will most likely never meet
again after
waking and the ceremonial what happened last night conversation.
Bad
decisions aren’t always made by dumb people, just starry-eyed ones
with the
idea that this is the best way to live burned into their world view by a
culture that idolizes idiots.
This is our
decision to life fast and die young, most likely of a disease that has
something to do with our unhealthy habits of over indulgence or our inability
to discern real from reality.
