At 6am,
I rose.

The drunken, tired
Journey

To the
Refrigerator

Was difficult.

To say the least.

But alas,
I found myself,

Hand on handle.

A tug.
Yellow light spills across my legs.

I flinch from the light.

Like a vampire.

But I must follow through.

Grunting,
I push beer aside.

Groping,
I seize the potato salad.

Triumphant,
I use the serving spoon

To shovel
Potatoes.

Mayonaise.

Bacon.

And onions.

Into my gaping emptiness.

07/16/2003

Posted on 07/16/2003
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