Doggoned Hangover
I shake my head like a dog
that just crawled out of a pond;
with gratified grunts I stretch,
struggling to yawn away
sweet seductions
of sleep
from groggy bottles
deep.
Bone weary, dry mouth, dusty,
muscles aching, stomach souring,
whiff of stale beer in my breath;
like an overripe banana I wilt,
and, yeah, it surprises me
not
that I feel rotten, stinking
a lot.
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