frankly, my dear

fill your belly with beer
after beer after beer after beer
your mind will swerve lazily
around all road signs and red lights
steering clear and moving
straight in the direction
of disaster, you’ll throw up the
middle finger and with a slur say
frankly my dear i don’t give a damn
to the world, and when you
wake up the next morning,
that clock will send you a sneaky grin
your head filled with what feels like
nail files dragging across the edges
of bent, cheap paperclips tearing
at the skin of your brain, and Monday
will say it just doesn’t give a damn
as it waits for you and watches you
clean up the bottles and cans
clinking against one another in a trash bag
those empty cans and bottles
probably feel like they had been had
because now they are out on the curb
where you tried to hurl all your other problems
during the weekend, stowed away
at some lame house party
in the suburbs

___
written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: infuse

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