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Poetry

Big Night Buddy?

Big night buddy? I ask
As you sit there softly
Vomiting into your Breton
Sweater.

Happy Sunday mate – you look like
You could use a coffee.
You’ve done all your flourishing
You’ve been a social butterfly
But now your wings are clipped.

Build yourself a cocoon of 
Powerade and doonas.
Sleep away the embarrassment;
Your hangover your only reward.

Go on, brave warrior
You’ve earned 
Your rest.

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By joegreathead

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