alternative to what's expected, i.e. counter nocturnal musing.

i never noticed it, the subtelty,
   the milimetre's worth of
deviance from
a standard beer...
and there are as many
as one could wish for -
   the cheaper palette riddles,
not something akin
to *hoegaarden
or leffe, or an ale that might
give off a cheaky hint of
   grapefruit...
or the king of stout,
     boor mc guinness...
   iron tooth paddy mc guinness -
if ever a romance, then just about now.
  no, pils beer is subtle in its
deviation from your:
reg. pint eff lager...
    oi! flint-off! (remix, born slippy,
nuxx) -
       shouldn't it be dubbed
lagger... to not say it much bigger,
otherwise posh tosh and...
        sudden realisation:
    a minor point about an added -g-.
never mind...
   pils beer:
        it's as fresh as champagne,
quirky, summery,
        fresh, i'd say even more
carbonated, definitely less heavy
than your regular lager...

...it's only 20 to 5 and already a party...
and to think:
i laughed more, i cried more (
tears of joy, say, the sea waves splashing
  against the coast in Kenya,
voughan william's fantasia on the theme
of thomas tallis)
   by myself...
than with anyone else...
  ah... alas, not a theory akin
to solipsism but the beckoning,
pulverising hive like reality...
         not even confused or dreary
with a movie franchise
    we know everyone is citing...
saying only one truth
is better than attempting to say
too many "wise" observations...
   a simple version of the grander
"quest"...
talk of beer,
    and the accent of snow in the air,
a crow perched on a lamp-post,
the bountiful grey sky above essex...
  and how ***
can never really have the status
of a kiss
    in Cinema Memory...
       nope, this cinema is subtle,
i go to it how often i can,
   all i need is a few static things
and it just comes on with a most
pleasing movie...
   that movie:
a boy and girl meet in a crowded place:
a tool gig in glasgow...
they're giving out water and passing
it into the crowd,
boy gives girl water,
       boy puts his arms around
the girl and pushes the zombie
chant chant brigade aside,
girl breathers, girl drinks,
girl turns around,
   the music fill the otherwise necessary
dialogue...
boy and girl kiss...
     after the gig, girl waits for the boy...
boy sees girl...
     passes her by...
                    that's the zenith...
there's no butcher, no flesh-dough kneading...
   a standard investment in
Cinema Memory...
             nothing to boast about...
the music is still there...
       and a respect for memory,
to give it a cinema status...
     however could brick walls and wintry
shrubs be so entertaining anyway?
    why isn't *** all that memorable
(unless you paid for it with
a *******)?
             it's too mechanical,
there's nothing ethereal about it,
nothing to actually boast about,
    maybe that's why so many
people resort to filming it...
      it's so, so unmemorable...
   don't get me wrong:
          who am i to prescribe any
better release?
           but this is Cinema Memory,
and what's the most frail,
most butterfly like that gives
this cinema its movies...
    well: i say moments that extend
into forever...
          
...and that subtelty of a pilzner beer,
    light, unlike a Bud (too much
rice extract in that ******)...

...not as heavy as your stndard beer,
definitely more fizzy, tickly fizz.