I sit up tonight and ponder creation,
its limitless possibilities rendering me
incapable of the act.
Like being *****,
think too much and it's gone.

At least this chilled whiskey
might warm me,
give muddled clarity
that will dissipate
before I awake the next day.

I feel that tug,
that green grin trying to charm,
and oh, it's workin'.
The seduction can't be denied,
it's implied over, over
till it's almost too much.

Suddenly I think of population's
scary multiplication,
forever piling more humans,
more, more, more, more, more
to a gasping planet.

The ice melts in my glass,
condensation gathering to the ridged sides,
even this small pour brings a grimace.
I'm scared of a clear mind,
what it will show me.
The desperate cry from capitalism's throat?
My plight, my strife, my struggle,
to obtain balance at a nation's fall.
The sheer worthlessness encompassing
anything it once stood for.

I teeter here, sips become more water,
precious water,
already commodified