When we’re drunk, we’re invincible

One more round at the bar on the beach
A final stop on the way out of town
Or a lesson in responsibility?

The government called,
said get out now, or you will die.
And you laugh and have another hurricane.

“They said golden French fries would kill me too,”
you state diplomatically – or is it dramatically?

As we have another round,
wait for the world to fall down.


See Chris’ golden French fries poem here.