It was an early night –
1:00 AM early.
The police passed by
For the bigger problems
And the clubs roared
A little louder than usual.
Loud and aloud while I danced
And danced
The Saturday night stumble –
To the left, to the right
And twice back,
Destination: Home.
I continued too tripped,
Or ripped,
To have a friend,
A little lonely,
But feeling a little famous
All the same and all the while.
I strode with swagger,
Head held a little higher than usual,
Made my way home, slept
And started over tomorrow,
Or was it the day after; the, “numb,”
Could be such a nimble little feat.
It’s a good thing that a cold beer’s
Always just around the corner,
So to, the stumble may begin once more,
And the tip-tap, tip-tap,
Stammer, side-step, fall will
Lead me once more unto rest –
Fallen and without dreams.
* Published in something, but I don't remember and to be frank, still too obsessed with that little something labeled, "numb."