it’s thirsty thursday
across the street bros gather
getting real hammered
all these khaki shorts
salmon polos and new shoes
douchebag’s uniform
thumping bass echoes
shaking the old thin walls
so much autotune
it is three thirty
so please stop “woo”-ing so loud
what does it get you
he reaches the tree
will he puke or piss or poop
oh no it’s all three
when the morning comes
no one will recall tonight
but instagram will
twelve voices become one
circling around the front yard
“chug chug chug” they cry
a glass bottle breaks
fleeting moments of silence
rest in peace vodka
dozens of red cups
spilling onto morning grass
shining natty dew
i trudge past the house
it’s beautiful in a way
smells like baked ass though
-Ryan Wires, Senior Staff Member