Better Mornings

In So Many Words: The Next Morning

In So Many Words: The Next Morning Featured
“I’m moderately young. Alive. And on the verge of Internet microfame.”

Mornings. In Verse.

Last Friday Night. 

(No Katie Perry).

Birthday party.

One of seemingly hundreds. Friend of a friend’s friend – mucho exclusivo.

Things turned odd.

There was a white limo involved.

And a Vizsla.

There’s a single section of velvet rope in my bed. 

And deep dish pizza on my pillow.

I make for the bathroom, craving Excedrin. 

I freeze. 

Something is in my bathtub.

It’s fine. 

It’s just my brother. 

He’s cradling a Fathead of David Ortiz.


As I grab my toothbrush I remember something.

I check Instagram. 

There it is. 

A photo I posted [timestamp 4:11 a.m.] of a shirtless Justin Bieber, a large teddy bear and what appears to be me – but like a hopelessly lost version of myself, staring into the camera like it can save me.

Only 16 likes. 

Everyone’s still sleeping, I tell myself. 


It’s Saturday.

I’m moderately young.


And on the verge of Internet microfame.