a cramp, i reason with myself,
holding
my stomach.
it must
have been the potato soup
i made
last night.
maybe i shouldn't
have added
the clams
and oysters.
i crawl to the bathroom
and curl up
on the tiled floor.
it feels good
against my cold skin.
i wipe the sweat
from my
brow with the tiny rug
i'm using as
a pillow.
it's 1985
all over again when
i used stay out into
the wee hours,
dancing
and drinking
with
Dave and assorted
friends.
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