Rag Week, Day One
Awakened by the sound of falsetto singing
I open the blinds to the early morning sun.
It is Aidan, drunk and having stayed up all night
Off to play tennis at 8am with a beer in each hand.
So this is Rag Week.
Rag Week, Day Five
On my walk to class amongst the broken glass
I stumble upon a trail of blood.
I follow it down the sidewalk to its source:
A lone tooth, abandoned on the pavement.
The price one pays for Rag Week.