I Was Told By Daniel W. Wright

I was told I drank too much
before friends revealed
that it was partly their fault
because they didn’t want to drink alone
and wanted to see
how far I could go

I was told that I put my arm
around a friend
and told them that we were surrounded
by Cthulu Walls
I was asked later what that meant
Fuck if I know

I was told I made an ass
of myself last night
as I kept running around
like a mad man
bar hopping between the three bars
on the same block
because each bar
had different people I knew.

I was told that I laughed
as friends
punched me in the dick
in retaliation
for my
punching them in the dick

I was told I made it in time
to puke in to the storm drain
because the bathrooms were full up
When I woke up the next day,
apparently I also puked
in front of my tv,
in the hall way,
in the toilet but didn’t flush
and a little next to my bed

Wish I had a smart ass thing
I could say about all this
But my head’s still killing me
so I’m going back to bed





A poet of the no collar work force, Daniel W. Wright is a mid-western son who loves and loathes the red brick town that surrounds him. A longtime writer of wild nights and whiskey tributes, Wright speaks for the lover in every loner. He is currently the author of five chapbooks of poetry, the most recent being The Death of the Ladies Man with Bad Jacket Press. His work has appeared in the Gasconade Review as well as underground zines Bad Jacket and Crappy Hour.