Pessimist Poetry’s Foreword: Saturday Night Party Poem
The motivation for this poem actually spurred from my time spent bar-hopping over the weekend. It was actually a relatively somber event; the bars were crowded, lines out the door and everyone was butts to nuts everywhere we went. I spent time sipping on beer, exchanging occasional conversation with my friends and people-watched. So many college students go out to party on the weekends as a vice to escape from reality and the things that plague their lives during the week. They might have a good time in the moment, but wake up in the morning hungover with an empty wallet at the end of it all. This Saturday Night Party Poem is my experience and takeaway from that night; although I like to have a good time drinking and socializing, I couldn’t imagine doing it every weekend like a majority of people my age.
Bodies grinding on the dance floor,
and conversations laced with drunken missteps and slurring of words
The stench of fermented grapes and hoppy beer mix with half-heartedly sprayed cologne and perfume,
but no one seems to notice or care.
Weekends come and go in fruitless attempts at escape and momentary gratification,
returning to reality with countless hangovers and a lighter wallet
Whether we de-stress or look for love in cheap one-night stands it doesn’t change anything
It doesn’t change our miserable lives, or solve the heaping pile of problems that drag us down day in and day out
Better to squint in low light and deaden the senses through cheap alcohol and Spotify playlists than see ourselves for what we’ve amounted to:
Nothing but poorly-disguised failures that haunt us.
Pessimist Poetry’s Afterword: Saturday Night Party Poem
“I binge when I’m happy. When everything is going really well, every day is like I’m at a birthday party.” -Kirstie Alley
What did you think of my Saturday Night Party Poem? Let me know in the comments below!