It's Still Life

You’re 19, Drunk, and …

you don’t think so now,
but you, too,
will grow old and die.
you, squatting in your
own puddled cess,
pissing down your leg,
and not even caring.
so I praise
my threes and nines,
my bottle of bleach
and a stiff long-handled
bristled brush.

4b 05.06 and 06.06 a few words and opposites, and a praise. ©️ Misky 2020