35.
Two AM in the dark morning
and once out back for
a smoke of my pipe,
heard the not-too-distant
yell of some lunatic
wreaking drunken
rage dry mouthed
havoc across the backstreets
of midtown Omaha and
its farthest reach east
Missouri river marking
the quiet mud-suck
boundary and my eyes
are flitting as I finish
this testimony with a
collapse into bed covers
up to cozy chin
through the cloven
hooved dark night -
it’s two AM in my life again,
no daylight but pointless
anyway as my eyes
are drawn shades
and for as sober as I
am, will not remember
this a jot further.
(October 5th, 2014)
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