The Bill

Found it today, shoved in a pocket,

a crumpled napkin, like a locket

of cheap paper, faint perfume.

A smear of red, dispelling gloom

with stark reminder.

That one night,

the world spun wrong, then spun too right.

Too much consumed, too much was said,

a buzzing in the weary head.

The bill arrived, a final sting,

the foolishness that one night brings.