Sip-slippier than cigarettes, crumpled avenues,
thought-fried papers, a license, butts scattered across
the sidewalk, smashed. Someone smeared on pavement,
another child down on your pale cement heart.

Bachelor bell weeps, each a tangy gong and bent;
An endangered ring, my naked fingers and your crooked tie.
That California woman looks very in love. Happy wed-
(Straighten your goddamn tie.) Ding! Pigs fly.

Calm resolution settles just in time for solstice, hovers
like a second hand security blanket and I do, I do,
wrap it around the fabric of my jubilant hangover.