***** comet
burning bile
physically sick of the party people—
dull as a broken record
with the same disdainful faces
that leave me screaming ALCOHOL
just to taste anything but bland conversation
and sugar-glazed eyes.

i'm used to fishing for compliments
beneath the **** of society's pond
waiting for someone to swim along
and take the bait

but it's the tragedy of the commons, babe-
everybody's doing it
and there aren't enough good fish left over
to keep me
satisfied.