THAT* Night was remarkable, my
peak
in social stature.  
Earlier on,
I
was
still in editing phases on my self/ psyche.
Mid-morning,
through to
the
very
late
night
-an absolute low.
    *Unbearably so...            
Until the whiskey
-whom I didn't mind the taste of-
came-on fully.                  
Also
I kept drinking.

I remember clearly
how BAD
the preceding events were.
Me,
seemingly a
LOST CAUSE
for a moment there
before I went from
the gutter to HIGH HEAVENS  outside of  
just a bottle or so.

&

Shortly thereafter
(another day)
when I felt
still ******,
and I
Believed it was perpetual,
and my feelings got all hurt
Or whatever.
Every
feeling
worsened
then,
-&goingforthfrom;
THERE...
  You essentially wrote me.
your first critique.   
Not for my work,
It was for my attitude
that you found undesirable.
that lost your interest in me.   
There have been no letters since.
Nor have there been any critics.


Unfortunately You
-back to Acid Night-
slept sporadically
and somehow soundly
on the couch,
among fallen soldiers and the broken-heart-ed.
                      
   Through this                
You remained
polite as an English,
and surprisingly
(Always Surprising me),
almost chatty
until the very End;  
always
always
An
enthralling conversationalist.
Even (or especially)
while in
this state.

This,
all this,
all of this & AllElseExceptForThatOneThing
was
O.K.
(Originally an acronym for "Zero Killed" in times of war. ...O.K. "-A revisal of
All Good.")
that night.


While you were sleeping
I meandered from
One room
to another room
to the patio
&
Back again to where
The cycle starts off,
bent on the intention
of being one of following:  
rude, or
disrespectful,
overly sarcastic,
always
deeply honest, and
Above all
Capable.
I really was
overly symbiotic.
A fun little strategy
I came upon, was
to figure out
a way of
saying ANYTHING
semi-appropriately
and
within the certain context.
Upon doing so,
I would leave coolly,
but immediately
to another room.

I was on fire through the night.  
(Don't be alarmed, or care however. ) the morning put me out with snowfall.

You did not see me at my Best.
We only spoke briefly on this occasion,
Earlier, when yours kicked in
And you told me that
You felt like a hornets nest
and I
(next time I took this drug)
Could not muster any logic
But for saying,
"Wow. The ***** was right."

I responded  
pretty coarsely.

All you really said to me
(After the night had fallen,
And after I had improved),
-in perfect pitch,
volume,
& articulation,
"I wish that you would yell at me."
At present,
--Now--
I would respond,

"I know that desire well-but
for a different reason,
I think,
than yours."
That reason:          
To make-out
more of your
words,
& to;
drink-in
the familiar melody they take-to.

I leaned closer to you every moment that you spoke.
This was only due to
your sentences beginning to
die off
A little earlier, and
A little earlier on.
They began sweet.
like a song.
Then they
madly trailed off.
as you would.
Maybe a little dizzy...    
    & eventually
(to cure/**** this little silence),
I just murmured like a joke,
"I can't even keep up with you now. You are completely
out of your mind."

and then I trailed off
And I
Wished you could have seen me really.