I don't think I could walk down a white line;
No matter how sober, I'd fail that test.
Careening like a clown, I'd draw a fine
And get shamed in the papers with the rest.
I probably couldn't level my arms out
Like Jesus on the cross, bend my elbows
And prove sobriety that way. No doubt
I would inexplicably miss my nose.
Then, broke (I lost my day job in retail
For dumping coffee down the boss's back),
I couldn't pay, they'd take me off to jail,
For klutz-unfriendly judges cut no slack.
One of these days lack of coordination
Is going to lead to my incarceration.
No comments:
Post a Comment