I'm hungover,
and colors don't
smell right
and images don't
taste right
and my lungs
are coated in
exhaust and liquor
fumes

I'm hungover
like a dog searching
for a bone that
was buried long ago
in a deep hole
in the middle of
nowhere

god ****** I'm hungover!
and I can't escape
the cigarette smoke
that follows me like
a bad pun
and there's a headache
starting in my toes
that wretches my
brain in the back
left corner
where my poems
come from