When things
crumble,
I like to draw lines
and straighten
my rugs.

The beer makes it hard sometimes
and things
don’t always end up
so straight.
They crisscross,
more often than not.

The uppers, though, make it easier –
I can see every grain
on the page
and it’s like a grid.
But then I can’t
draw the next day.

But when I’m sober
and I draw a line
and my rugs
are perfectly straight,

it’s my tiny little
“fuck you”
to all of Life’s curves.