He laid in the sun
    like he ruled the earth,
    he held onto the
wine bottle
     with a hand heavily scared
      with the marks
of suffering.

    He toasted the
sea and the surf,
    cursed the
gulls and the gnats.

     Then brought the bottle
to his dried and
cracked
lips and drank
as if the
    last grape
     of the world had
let its blood
     into his bottle.

     He laughed at
a memory
     then yelled at
the sun and
       everyone around
him was a peasant.

    His lips bled red
as he gulped mouth
fulls of wine.
The memory of
her along this very beach
caused his inner
rage to drum forth.

     He gripped handfuls
of sand as he silently
Dammed the serpents
all to Hell.

  He mumbled drunken
thanks to
    Minerva, Osiris, Hera
     and Anu.

      The shadowed world
looked down upon him
     and the feral cats adored him.
     He lived like true royalty,
drunk and alone.

Care free and forgotten
he had become once
he had awoke to it all.
Ridiculed and labeled CRAZY
for his ability to see
it all for what it really
was,for what it really
still is.

She left this page
on a Saturday as he
slept on a chair
beside her hospital bed.
He buried her
on a Tuesday,
then set about to
drinking.

He broke free
of it all,
detached himself
from this farce
and
set about to wonder.
Now free of the
pollution they call society,
he waited only
on the next life,
on that next page.

Where she had promised him
they'd meet again...