GOING OUT STAYING IN
I’ve done the math of staying in bed,
begging off the party, my hand covering
my glass, no thanks, I’m okay. Tired
of dubious eyeballs. Time to use the word
crestfallen. Everyone crestfallen, me, them,
the half-tilted bottle, the full-tilted throttle
of party party party. My excuses, well-done,
not half-baked. I’m done, done, done.
I’m seeing it all reflected in the swelling
darkness, the sullen sneer of the street-
light, the tattered missing-pet poster.
I’m missing it all. I stare at the silence
of the beautiful, empty glass.
