Prelude To A Car Crash On Prom Night
'Have another drink, ' he said,
'The night's young, you know.'
'No, I'm nearly ready for bed -
And I certainly do have to go.'
'But you're not even drunk, '
He snarled with displeasure.
'You're not a damned Monk -'
He was taking my measure.
'You'll just pickle your liver, '
I said...with a smile.
Then I repressed a shiver
And said, 'Not my style.'
The alcohol I didn't crave
Prematurely dug his grave.