HANGOVERS LIKE STEEP, JAGGED MOUNTAINS YOU HAD TO CRAWL OVER ON YOUR KNEES BACKWARDS IN THE DARK
I was up some ladder,
holding on for my life.
The boss man came tearing into the jobsite,
asking everyone where Jose was.
Finally a man they called La Viejita muttered,
“I call heem, but his phone turn off.”
The boss man scowled at the thought
of Jose sleeping in,
the idea that maybe
he’d gone out drinking the night before.
The boss man hated drinking.
He declared once
that he’d have been a millionare
many times over
if not for the bottle.
“well, next time he’s fired!”
before storming off.
It was a warning to all of us,
but probably more especially me.
I stayed up on that ladder,
hanging on for my life
shuddering at the hangover I’d soon have.
A little while after the boss man left
I climbed under a drop cloth
to hide myself from the world
and hide the world from me.
And it worked.