Hangovers

H is for

Hangovers
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Slowly one eye creaks open
With the ease of a busted garage door
The second opens in sympathy
Fried egg eyebals
Pissholes in the snow
The fuzzy brain engages
Prescribing a day of pain and nausea
For the mummified body on the exploded bed
The brain mocks, the body cries
Time for the guts to blast and rumble
Fruit loop farts
The stomach heaves
And cramps and shouts for seltzers
Then the tightfitting eyes see another face
An ugly reddened sweaty clammy face
Of no apparent gender
The body flinches in embarrassment
As the memory cells try to remember ;last night
Was it good?
Was it bad?
Was it legal?
The seconds tick by
Before the face sees itself
In the mirror;