Drunkenness or doing what you're not supposed to or not doing what you're supposed to. Short of breath and sweaty. Dense. A brain like glass nothing sticks a mind's eye like glass what I can't figure the faint breath there something passing or just passed. In the morning no cigarette smoke inhaled over toothpaste. What full head What empty stomach What spotted hands.
What do you concentrate on and who do you know? Driving mother's blue Buick over a country dirt road the girl's huge tits, your ardor enough to just about weep and escape or college friendship dull, secure, to sleep. You did find your way home one late summer afternoon the shadows of the green leaves their washing sound exquisite tender sentiment neither here nor there. No putting out the fire with water pure as the rain nor petals nor ginger ale.
My reflection in the clouds Chinese drunken poets desire. No clouds today a sky as clear as gin to swim or drown in
the river takes this bend
goes where air and water don't meet as friends.
This is a richly appointed headache and in my dream
the gun shoots water I escape by swinging from a low branch
onto a moving truck before I am caught empty handed.
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