Drunk drivers don’t give a shit.
We drink and we gamble,
we’re the worst of the worst.
Three Jameson’s in and we say,
“All right, I’m all good,”
and stumble to our cars
and drive away.
We sit in the car
slump over the steering wheel
and think to ourselves,
“I probably shouldn’t.”
But we put the key in the ignition
and scoot along by,
staring at the black top
and hoping that
the headlights
blaring behind us
aren’t cops.
We are on our best behavior,
we drive straight through the line
and straight through two
red lights because fuck it–
we can make it.
We drive because we don’t care
if we live or die.
We’re just trying now,
when we couldn’t before
when it mattered
but what matters more than life or death?

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