Nights

With gin on my breath only truth will touch these lips tonight
Dead eyes, long stares, and tired visions
Tired of staring at the screen
Staring past the curtain and through the veil
Staring at Those gyrating hips move like a rain dance during a waxing moon
Staring at visions that disappear and dissolve into the sunlight
Eyes that see. Eyes that see at night.
Dead eyed and desensitized and dehumanizing others
Along with fields of thought scattered with human bodies as though they were leaves right before winter
Animal like chants from other rooms seem like cries of victory of ex-revolutionaries in countries far off
The Cat doesn't always land on her feet
Beer making Her a brawler, She takes a dive and throws the fight
Loose change scattered along the floor
Dollar bills cling to our feet
One great exodus after another to the pins and needle cold outside for a smoke
The glass tips back
The Earth calls my essence to it
And I feel my body slip