Happy New Year

Raise your glasses brimmed
with the good wine from yesteryear
dark burnt-orange,
that tastes like fire.

It's burning the house down;
plaster spit spats, and the
paint melts and dribbles down the walls
like bile down a bulimic's chin,
puddling on the floor, a rainbow
of designer oil slick.

You retch and retch, throats smoldering,
engulfed in flames; but relishing
its age and class, toasting
Skies the limit! Never
look back! We'll remodel
again, this year.