-- a drunken reprise:
   sound of bones crackling
    upon stretch on a limp chair.
   the continual attendance
     of the dark:
      the bottle is streaked with
       pale light.
     unquiet, remorseless,
       thick in secret:
     to drink alone, in unmistakable truth, as i gild
     the immensity of impalpable
   currents moving in swathes
   sudden without weathered image.
     the table's pressing mysteries, the barkeep's maledict eyes. the vagrant wind going in
    and out of panting doors tired
  of the coming and going.
      the night fans, and then flames with auburn fire, and around
   it, miseries fandango through
  the crepitation of drunkenness -

i singe brighter than any
    conflagration, and in the belly
  of the dark sits a god, grieving,
   announcing rain earlier than
     the heaving of trees and
    acrimonies:
  there is ease in between
   burning and ablution
that pass on the soliloquy.
  
       this is the recurrence
  of new familiars, forging without
    hope, rid of blame, rogue
      with only little identity.
    true-telling roars bludgeoned
       into infinitesimal voices,
    to drink alone,
        the wine
            of
              the forgetful.