The wretchedness of waking
Up on a hard wood floor
And not even a throw blanket
To cover me!
From the kitchen, emerge the sounds
Of chorizo and eggs
Crackling jubilantly in the pan,
And the flurry of conversation
This early in the morning
(Or is it afternoon?)
To say the least.
How long has everyone been awake?
And how long was I asleep? Well
Anyhow, I’m here now in this
New chapter of this cataclysm
Scaling that infernal slope once more
The slow, but sure progression toward
The apex, where my eyes enjoin the light
And finally adjust.
Recollection proves to be
Its own struggle. Each of last night’s
Moments is heaped among
The others like compost, withering
Though I’m sure that somebody
Will be kind enough to provide the deets.
Like who made it with whom
And what embarrassments
I managed to inflict upon myself –
I’m sure that it’ll make a grand story
Some years from now, after
We’re through fattening ourselves
On the milk of youthful hysteria
And we’ve commenced sapping
The color from our hair.
What a drag!
Until then, just clasp me in your tender
Paw for once, just long enough
For me to sleep this one off.