Sniffing my armpits like a Bohemian
I may have mystery stains on my bathrobe
that hasn’t been washed
in a month

for sure, there are traces of tawny port
and black coffee certainly

without a care, sometimes
I put-on my cleanest sullied shirt
after carefully sniffing
of course

dirty dishes stack up, crusty, as high
as the laundry, pretty much
neck and neck

what the heck, there’s
better things to do
I think

I have used a paper towel or two
to wipe my ass, I admit
this sounds crass, I have pissed
and missed the toilet
with less than dead-eye aim
in the dark, drunker than
Cooter Brown.

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