to the drunken hearted

in the book of inebriation the wise slosh said:
though shalt not salute monday
you shall flip it the bird
hold friday sacred
and annoint it with the bastard's mudder's milk
embrace the clarity that comes with bacchus' logic
and accept the things that cannot be changed when the morning comes
let not dawn meet you
with a single care
or your other meet you
with your bottom bare