Solo 

Lofted and sheetless
unruly giggles ping ponging through
cracked screens
tumbling into the smallest cinder block cased space
two people could occupy.

I am fermenting
on thursday evening around
10:47 pm I
begin churning  my sugars
brewing in the top bunk.

180 proof
on a college campus infatuated
with inebriation
(grab a dictionary –
morning classes skipped,
sunglasses no where to be found)
reveling in the bitter
appeal of back throat burns,
“thirsty thursday”
spent speechless
brewing in the
top bunk.

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