There's a ******* fly that is taunting me in my living room.
I can't get the chance to **** it.
I'm on my second drink, and I'm bummed out that I'm alone.

I'm getting pretty toasted.
And yeah, it doesn't take much.
A joint would be great.
Sorry, I can't finish this poem.
I'm distracted by this documentary I'm watching about Janis Joplin.

I wish I could sleep.
But I hate being in this apartment alone.