Upon Waking up Face Down in the Gutter
Funny thing is that just last week
I had sworn never to touch the drink
Yet here I was coming back to life, just
like a drunken Lazarus arisen from the
gutters of New Zealand.
I overshot my house by three doors and
crashed face first into the drainage ditch
of the elderly Smith family.
It must have been about two A.M. or
somewhere thereabouts, lucky for me
they were out of town visiting grandchildren.
The Irish pub was packed and the Karaoke
singers were all terrible, but at least on the
truly terrible renditions of Time after Time
or Do You Really Want to Hurt Me, I could
nip out to the back and hit my private stash
I had planned ahead and thought to stock my
back pack full of beer, hiding it behind the skip
bin out behind the pub.
Either I was a bloody genus or a starving student
that could not afford his drink in any pub in this
God forsaken town.
Between desperate gulps of beer, I finally came
to the conclusion that I should ditch the horrible
singing, the horrible company, and the dingy pub
and start the two mile trek home.
Not realizing just what lay ahead in the frigid
Wayne Russell is a creative writer born and raised in Florida. Previously, Wayne has resided ten years in New Zealand and one year in Scotland, he has seen much of the lonely planet and hopes to someday see more of it.
Wayne leads the freak squad over at Degenerate Literature, you can check them out on social media https://www.facebook.com/DehenerateLiterature/ or at their web site at http://degenerateliterature.weebly.com/issue-10.html