Split Lip

is bleeding as you sit down on the tattered green couch next to me and I know you feel bad and your doe eyes tell me over “Wave of Mutilation” we shouldn’t have gone skateboarding down that massive fucking hill after the 4th round of tequila shooters but that moment of wind hitting bare skin as I barreled down the asphalt that thankfully had no cars on it at 2 AM was like I was floating in a lava lamp, if only for a split second, beneath the tension wire.



Clem Flowers (They/ Them) is a soft spoken southern transplant living in spitting distance of some mountains in Utah. In an eternal search for the perfect sweet potato fry. Nb, bi, and queer as the day is long, they live in a cozy apartment with their wonderful wife & sweet calico kitty.

Categories: Poetry

Daily Drunk

Shawn Berman runs The Daily Drunk. You can follow him on Twitter @Sbb_writer.

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