Hangover
I lie with my eyes closed
Listening to my own breath
This is the act of being alive
My head is still foggy from last night
That night we really lived
There was singing and dancing.
Happiness all around.
But now my dance is the raising of my chest
My song, my breath
And it’s another kind of happiness
The happiness of being alive
The novelty of it
Makes me think
Maybe we don’t have it quite so bad
And I spend another morning almost sober
I’m a young Albany poet and musician. With inspiration from beat authors and the disenchanted I play and write.