A poem in no discernible meter or rhyme scheme
by Gabriel Vincent Zaldivar
When your head touched my pillow you fell asleep,
and I looked at you from the foot of the bed, so tender, so sweet.
Everything was well between you and I,
especially now that you passed out from drinking too much Skyy.
I took off my shirt, followed by pants, and ate two Tums like I always do.
As always your sleeping face was cute, even with the glimmer of drool.
As I slipped into sleep I felt as though something was not right,
something was a miss, I would not enjoy the whole night.
Suddenly I awoke, much later than before.
I knew right from the gurgles and how my stomach was sore
Nothing could change my feeling, nothing uttered, nothing said.
I shouldn't have eaten that burrito before bed!
I tried to go back to sleep, ignore it for my sweetheart.
I can't help it though. This room smells like burrito farts!
How can you sleep my dear when my bottom is on the brink?
I mean seriously, How much did you fucking drink?
So I bolt up without warning and dash to the head
I should have remembered to take a shit before bed.
There I am, in the dark, ready to pass out sitting.
Stay awake! It's your own fault your shitting.
If it were up to me life would be so sweet
and at fifteen past eleven I wouldn't have to eat.
But as it were, before sleep I must be fed.
Ah, it is so romantic that you are still passed out in my bed.
