Richard, really, blink, please give your eyes a goddamn drink.
Livers need a break, despite the lies your mind may think.
"Livers need to break," you say, still staring at the day.
Brows are high, imbibing puts them up, then up they stay.
Music puking much too loudly, blues abuse my ear.
Sound protruding, huge contusions move through what I hear.
Driveway rumbles. Dick arrival. Headlights killing fun.
Engine idle means that calm survival must be done.
Richard's home! Inspection will commence--were rules obeyed?
Tallest forehead ever can detect how children played.
Russet Burbanks peeled, the glow of gut has been revealed!
Flannel shirt unbuttoned, doming whiteness cannot yield.
Broken toys, the noise of plastic cracking taunts me most.
Nipple hair absurdly curling...bolster to the boast.