Drunk, Sloppy Poem by Albert Oscar Rhodes

Drunk, sloppy
Vomit, wipe, vomit.
Wipe your mouth, get up.
Vomit.

It's getting to feel tedious baby,
The conversational tone,
The space outside my brain.
The Vomit.

I'm long familiar here,
The floor greets me
Like an old friend.
Like it doesn't hurt.

I stumble, and fall
As the blood escapes my skull
I mourn all the good booze
That I'm losing

And the headache
Unites me with the galaxy through the tile
And from this point of view
Things are looking up

And oh, God! the vomit