poetry hangover

was it the wine
was it the pills
was it the poetry
i cannot stand still
against disaster i lean
one eye closed
to escape meandering
a rhythm flows
a beat beats
a sacred cadence
from beneath
steel drums peel
aortas thump
bump. bump. bump.
table wobbles
dean stance begone
keep on keep on
syn ack sin flash
what does it mean
aren't we all
just wondering
can i be loved
and why do i need it