Boom.
Repercussions abound
on a brisk and sunny Sunday morning.
My head feels like it hit some bricks
my mouth tastes like I swallowed strychnine.

After it went down
I stood on wobby legs,
screaming "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
and nothing could quiet my conscious bursting through
my lack of coordination.

Chaos in a Poland Spring bottle
is always the best choice
for sending repercussions bouncing off the insides of your head
like sound waves off the inside of the Grand Canyon
the morning after.