Downed

Forgive the abrasion
and bruises that shine
it’s just the persuasion
of sparkling wine,

I should be as bubbly
as this brimming glass
instead I want doubly
to blister your ass;

hung over tomorrow
I’m sure to abhor
that I’ve caused you sorrow
so hurry, pour more

to grant me some slumber
an hour or two
before I encumber
your future anew—

the vessel is hollow
it’s hard to decline
each deadening swallow
of sparkling wine.