The birds are chirping

And I’m tired

4 AM

Soon I’ll hear the homeless man

Sorting through the trash outside five floors below

They crush our empty beer cans from the night

Turning our revelries into flowers

Crush them and craft them into something else

And then sell our debaucheries back to us

Down in the subway stations

On our way to the next bar

Sometimes I hear Nolan outside FaceTiming his “bros” back home

Asking Brian/Chad/Derek/Tommy/Brock/Brad

If they fucked Rachel/Jessica/Tiffany/Britney/Amy/Lauren/Becky yet

It all blends together

Until I’m left with cataracts in my eyes

Opaque, cloudy, blurred vision

I’m trying to distance myself from you

But it’s hard on nights like this

When I’m just so tired

And wandering so blindly