An Ode to Forgetfulness

I wake up sore 'cause I'm still spent
From my bed, I see a tent.
Not a sound.
So nude to the kitchen, I am sent.

Sizzling bacon, frying eggs,
I'm still getting over those seven kegs.
The food doesn't last.
It's coming up fast.
I spend the next hour on bent legs.

Still hungover, I get into my car.
In my state, I hope to get far.
Speeding, breaking, becoming sick
I need to pull over really quick.
My green, black vomit tastes like tar.

I walk into school in a stumbling way.
No one's here, they've gone astray.
Up and down the halls I roam.
If feels just like an empty home.
Oh, damn. It's Saturday!