Drunk Kids

Those drunk kids piss me off.
            Their indestructible 
   laughter, that hollering 
slides up the side of the 
building into my room—
I was so gone I lay on 
the road. They grabbed a foot each,
pulled me into the black grass.
            I lay for a time.
They fell into the cool grass while
the cigarette’s end got red.
Funny sharing cigarettes,
funny the clouds at night look 
like frightened cats, someone said,
  their magnificent laughter 
               stretching far into my life
—fizzes and gets sucked out
and hurries back on them,
their idiot laughter 
         in the foam.