Beer with the Boys in the Bar

one night you agree to go home with a guy

missing a tooth or two — he’s not someone

you work with, that’s one complication avoided

& who knows what his name is — you’ve drunk

rather more than usual despite knowing alcohol

doesn’t agree with you, facts you acknowledge

when you find yourself in a pickup weaving

down a narrow potholed driveway, facts

you acknowledge the full implications of

when in his water bed your head starts to spin

& you vomit, & vomit — that’s the end of that

you think, indeed, you remember nothing else

until morning when despite a mild recurrence

of nausea & no toothbrush, sigh, you agree

to join him in the shower — it’s not clean —

where you ask yourself why you’re naked

worse yet, sober, with no-name — oh well

a body’s a body, you do what you want to do