was exhumed by stern-faced defeat as all others revel in victories. i only watch the limpid light slowly frittering back to its console as the barkeep hands me my 7th beer of the night
as i handed them the first defense of the inveigling tactic i have yet to put them through and send their young minds to equipoised trial.
i have felt ears poor without understanding but the welcoming warmth of the light shone against my already bleared body pierced through the unclear of words, as i read them littlest of my far-slung poems, bardic and resolute yet rogue upon sound thinly hanging, barely on a spindle of plaudit.
the barkeep bestows me my 8th bottle and i have felt some slow ease encroach me with lighter burnt retreat, as i left, unfinished.
Written after a poetry reading in Roxas Boulevard, Manila.