Comedic poetry: Getting drunk for the first time

Illustrated by Marcus Blackstock

Written by: Kitty Cheung

You walk excitedly into the basement party, nestled in the suburbs, surrounded
by university friends, more like acquaintances? whatevs, WE FINNA GET
and rum and all those fancy liquors you think you know from movies
and TV but they burn and taste like nail polish remover so you chug
soda pop. Is this what adults like to do? I should know I’m in uni now
bitches how much did you pay the boot you’re woozy and sloppy,
nervous laughter sneaking up from the back of the throat, aftertaste
of alcohol sneaking up, alcohol swimming through your blood
choked sitting on the basement couch red plastic cup
brimming with bad decisions, derision striking the back of
the throat oh wait no that’s vomit UUUUGHGHHGHGHGH
REGRET REGRET hands and knees towards the toilet the
rest of the night is spent staring into that bowl of pristine
porcelain so much cleaner than your soul right now. Bile
and regret in the toilet bowl, splitting headache nauseous
sensitivity to all light and sound you’re crying,
sobbing, bawling into the toilet bowl as your class
valedictorian babysits you from the corner of the
washroom making sure you don’t try to drown yourself
in your own pool of vomit and shame. One of your
stronger friends offers to carry you to bed but as an
independent woman you refuse inebriated but
stubborn stumbling with a plastic Walmart bag
held feebly under your chin in case you throw
up again and then you throw up again and the
Walmart logo is illuminated by vomit and you
mentally apologize to your liver I’m so sorry liver,
you’ve always been so good to me detoxifying my
blood and shit that’s what the liver does right?
You should have called Mom to pick you up
hours ago, where is she now? probably asleep,
you fall asleep blissful sleep while hugging
a trash can as a potential barf bowl
what a lovely learning experience