The Persian Procedure

Dig into the blankets.
The darkness of dawn crushes you down into the mattress.
If you dare to shift, your skull might crack anew.

The genius of the night before now deserves reconsideration,
Judgment from every state of mind.
The sun is rising on your wisdom,
Like overhead lights at last call.

A whiff of whiskey from your own mouth
Fills your sinuses like smoke from a housefire.
This is the cost of nocturnal freedom come due,
Paid in pain and shortened days.

Whining about it won’t help you.
Stale coffee from yesterday morning awaits.
Flip the switch,
Reheat,
Pour it to soften bread burned black
And enflame eggs fried with hot sauce.
In the quiet waves of morning’s fog,
Evaluate yourself.

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