The Drunk At the Dinner Party

There’s always one drunk at the dinner party; an embarrassing shame Ne’er to be invited back again It doesn’t complement the tortured duck foie gras crackers And the sinfully boring conversations lamenting benefit scrounging slackers Everyone else is clunkily overdressed, not to mention, anxious and stressed Even the halibut’s looking depressed. The darling children all love to whinge The chubby husbands are all thinner on Hinge I drain the whisky bottle, and the host hands me some tea It’s happened again; I guess the drunk must be me. Evie H