one night you agree to go home with a guy missing a tooth or two — he’s not someone you work with, that’s one complication avoided & who knows what his name is — you’ve drunk rather more than usual despite knowing alcohol doesn’t agree with you, facts you acknowledge when you find yourself in a pickup weaving down a narrow potholed driveway, facts you acknowledge the full implications of when in his water bed your head starts to spin & you vomit, & vomit — that’s the end of that you think, indeed, you remember nothing else until morning when despite a mild recurrence of nausea & no toothbrush, sigh, you agree to join him in the shower — it’s not clean — where you ask yourself why you’re naked worse yet, sober, with no-name — oh well a body’s a body, you do what you want to do