Fake Tans and Beer

I launch a
ping pong ball
into a red Solo cup.
Girls in
short shorts
with frayed ends
stumble around
the living room.
It's a sea of
warm bodies
sipping vodka
and chain-smoking.
I see a girl
on the porch
standing next to
a beer keg.
I pick up my drink
and walk towards her.


Later that morning,
lying next to her
in bed,
I get a slow,
sick feeling
coming over my body.
It starts in
my stomach
and winds all the way
to my head.
I cough,
roll over,
and try to fall
back to sleep.
Outside,
a garbage truck
pulls up
to carry away the trash.
The sound rattles
through the bedroom,
through my mind,
to the very core
of my being.