Originally posted 5/18/2012.
Stupid you, cold drunk crashing
right through the knee-high fence
in your own front yard
and planting your face
among the weed-strangled old tulips.
Through the old weak fence
right on your old weak face
in the front yard where the neighbors can see,
and you don’t seem to care enough
to run and hide in shame this time;
you seem content
to lie there ass up
for all of us neighbors to see.
You’ve been stupid since you were a kid,
a drunk since you were just past that,
and none of us can count how often
you’ve tripped over that fence stupid drunk.
Stupid drunk, that’s what you are —
our object lesson, our signal disaster;
face down in the dead tulips with ass sticking up.
You’ve been in that position for a bit now,
at least an hour, and we’re all still laughing because
it’s likely the best job you’ve had, the perfect job for you —
no real effort required: just lie there,
let the neighbors point and laugh
and say things to their kids
about being drunk and stupid
and a public spectacle.
Now a crow, a real live crow,
has landed next to you and is inspecting you
up close and personal.
Never gonna let you live
this one down, asshole.
Priceless. I’m gonna see
if I can get close
and snap a picture —
if you can’t get up on your own,
you deserve this.