The One With the Painting

there’s a painting on the wall in the corner of my living room
that i realize, in this moment,
is hung upside down.

it depicts nothing.
it is abstract, just shape and color.

i painted it myself, i hung it myself.
it is not until this moment that i notice i have understood it
backwardly and upside-downward.

it is all wrong and i know that now,
but i am drunken sunken stuck in my big chair
and i can not get up to fix it.