The shot glass speaks arrows
arrows to tear a man down
at the worst of all times
he viewed life
not through the camcorder imagery of most
but through specific harsh globes of flesh
the eyeballs which couldn't betray him
even when life seemed to come
in violent fragmented flashes
reminding him of all that was false,
they had said it was a weekend
dedicated to a
"ruin your life sort of drunk"
he couldn't tell them
of a life already in shambles
nor of the tribulations
of developing a craft
which seems in its death throes
work seemed silly
the very idea of a boss
or a station
ultimately sickening
but still he trudged on
knowing that he was chasing
much bigger fish,
much bigger fish indeed