A Spontaneous Overflow of Drunk Emotions

Country pop music?

I could pay $1 to change it,

but I won’t

because why waste a dollar;

there isn’t a song

I’d rather hear,

specifically,

anyway.

Rap now,

a chi-chi-chi 

over and over and over;

good thing

I ate a banana earlier,

my head doesn’t hurt

but the bass is so loud

and banging.

TVs show gymnastics,

basketball;

a dairy queen commercial.

All tables are full–

sure,

I’m here alone–

I feel the eyes on me.

I keep hoping someone I know

will come up behind me,

but no one does;

I came too early–

Oh well,

I was hungry.

Oh fuck,

old fuck,

put his glasses on but hasn’t recognized me;

thank fuck,

dumb fuck,

marriage counselor

thinks he knows things he couldn’t.

Red solo cup,

the dude just died

someone must have played this,

paid a $1;

not me

I can’t remember his name,

but red solo cup

I remember.  

Bored now and I want him to talk,

just to hear the bullshit

spew from his mouth

as if he knows all–

Is a god?–

an old fuck

is what he is;

no god gives marriage advice

after being divorced.