Junior College

mornings awakening in new worlds, hung-over
and cotton-mouthed, we spent adulthood’s first years
swimming in rivers of whiskey with wine and beer
tributaries polluted with cola, soda,
and rocks of ice amid the monsoon rains of vodka,
gin, rum, and the mixed precipitations fruit juice
and schnapps and occasionally the toxic tonic—
wedges of lime floating like discarded tires, flotsam
and jetsam, detritus of frequent debauch lost
wandering starless nights high on espresso
yet still half drunk from liberty and conversation
spilled over from the last party, the final one
this semester and next week detox with parents
and less familiar family back at the homestead.

David M Pitchford
9 Dec 2011


2 thoughts on “Junior College

  1. I love this one – such powerful, tangible descriptions! I would list my favorite lines if that didn’t mean retyping 80% of your poem! I think this is my favorite thing I have read of yours.

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