it's noon and I'm already drunk
wandering around atlanta because I've misplaced my wallet
I need my id to prove I'm legal
I hate to spend 10 dollars on a beer
so we chug tall boys in a parking garage thinking,
"how did we get here?"
and nothing feels as good as the approximate size and shape
of a can in my hand
gripping it in the front row with the same intensity
as castaway gripping a raft
lifeline made of aluminum
I'm coughing between sips
there is water in my lungs
I was always afraid of drowning
there's a certain desperation in the way
that I'm trying to pretend I'm comfortable in my own skin
and this can is selling my preferred brand of serenity
"I want to be drunk for this"
in the same way
"I want to be comfortable for this"
I'd tell you it's healthy
but that'd be a lie
but you know what?
I drink cheap beer
so what
*******