days and nights and days
all melding into one
a temporary escape lies
at the bottom of a bottle.

in ash-blackened mountains,
white soldiers in crumbling helmets
crowd glass barracks to the brim
as they burn in embers of regret.

awake, arise and stumble;
residual drunken stupor;
rehydrate as hungry stomach grumbles;
flip through blurred snapshots
of the night before.

double, over-exposures
forever lost in your strobe-light mind.
massaging temples, rubbing eyes,
you let slip this futile plight.