OktoberFest

He walks,
teeters, dazed,
glazed,
hands held parallel to the ground,
tap dancer hands
balance, precarious footing on horizontal earth,
                    walks to the sappling,
still growing,
still pushing itself through the earth,
dirt and excrement,
falling, churning,
by its side

His friends jeer, encourage,
taunt,
point a lens at him,
timeless, fixed,
he clasps the sappling - thin trunk in tight fist -dancer's hands,
vomits his last meal on it's base,
           
All the alcohol of the day-
laughter sickness, self-inflicted poisonous fun,
rushes out, gushes out, in the sun
5:00 on a spring fling afternoon,
where the grass is still fresh,
still green and clean

As vomit splashes his sneakers.