Twilight Zone Summer

Close to 4 a.m. and Lauren and I sit on my stoop,
watch three guys try to leave the playground across the street.
They’re too drunk to find the opening,
so they climb over the fence.
One of the three can’t make it,
straddles, lands on his dick.
One friend has to pull from one side/
the other pushes.
It takes an hour.

This is the Rod Sterling version of my life
where grown men can’t make their way out of a park,
where suddenly I like wine,
and sitting, laughing with Lauren,
just the right amount of drunk—

the first time I’ve ever felt full.

.

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