Inebriate

You stood outside the bar And tried to be polite Against a barrage of knuckles But felt skull and skin collide Ask the bouncers, whose arms Feasted upon your drunken stupor Hours' worth of anger In town, trying to convince the banker To lower the interest rate Over debts they could hardly pay You should have maintained Your new year's resolution to be dry At least you tried Somebody called 911 To report a passed out guy On the pavement, Possibly gazing at constellations Inside his head The price you pay for a temporary high On a Saturday night Spinning mass of curly hair Suspended in a zone of putrid air You staggered away slightly dazed But passing by in a Chevrolet A child witnessed the violence