my brain is a frat house (poem)

the gang's all here

and they're all holding 

cheap wax paper cups 

with that teal and purple 

crayon design on them. 

those are the only ones

I’ve got around here.

some of these people 

are dead or certainly 

love to act that way,

and some are livelier 

but they're idealized 

versions of themselves 

that probably don't 

exist either. and 

for the most part,

none of these folks

know each other,

and that's cool. 

that's the point 

of a party. grab 

a drink and get 

comfortable.

you'll be here a while,

whether we both like it

or not.