Creative Poem

Logan Spear
Typical College Parties
One shot down,
Looking around,
Turn up that music let it drown
our sorrows and help us rebound
from a week of work in which we clowned around.
The drunkest kid will gain renown
at the end of the night he’ll hit the ground.
Another shot down the hole
letting the music infest your soul.
Liquid courage in which friendships are made
encouraging guys to try and get laid.
Thus far consciousness remains within all
None of those girls are ready to fall
Onto those sheets
that ladylike habits are thrown to the streets.
On shots three, four, and five…
the party begins to come alive,
sex drives begin to thrive,
and more people begin to arrive.
Get your ass up on that pole,
and afterwards just smoke a bowl,
remembering tomorrow is not our goal.
Blackout status wins this round…
The miseries of college we all try to drown.
Patron on six… Jack on seven…
was that Aristocrat Vodka on eight through eleven?
We start with straight shots… and then pop bottles.
Is that girl really hot or are these beer goggles?
The party is merely muffled sounds and blurred visions,
drinking this much was a bad decision.
The back of my eyelids is all I can see,
I just killed some brain cells, that’s a guarantee.
The party keeps bumpin’ but for me tonight’s over,
if it’s a girl I want next time, I’ll try and stay sober.