with pinking shears
I cut my slip,
quit my job
hit the bricks,
headed to a pub, and then–
drank till I saw elephants
–rosy red
like my eyes–
crossed & tossed
I didn’t drive,
leaving my pink Cadillac,
at Bruce’s bar
(parked out back)
walking home
I found fresh air
sobered me
–pinkie swear
next day woke up in the pink
house & mood
in spite of drink,
moral is
when getting pickled:
laugh it off
pink
your tickle.
prompt: pink
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