an average wednesday night

The testicle count hit eight.
The crowd bravo'd with laughter and praise.
The poet smiled adoring his own creative communal joke.

The Tiger breathed his last: “Grrrreat.”
The “carrot tops are green.”
The need to “believe in something.”

The three dollar G&T
The nine point eight and a ten
The $100 prize

The words weaved.
The audience applauded.
The underground undulated.

ego’s soared
ego's floored
Ego’s roared.