Slaked

I drank a few more milk shakes and cold beers
Than mother would have let me, I admit,
But I was weak. It wasn't courage, wit,
Or sheer insensibility. My fears
Were not under control. I shed some tears,
I begged a little, and I left some spit
On some guy's neck. I'm not ashamed of it,
But when I face a jury of my peers . . .

Who are we kidding? My peers are a group
Much smarter, and much better looking, too,
Than this crowd. I expect to hear them moo
At any moment, like a circus troop
Fed up with meals of nothing but cold soup.
They want milk shakes and cold beers, just like you.