Wall
From 9 p.m. to 2 a.m.--a solid wall of beer.
With all that follows:
drunken spinning,
recognition perhaps of time-space continuum,
I’m sorry man about your girl well listen.
At 2 I realize that of course Godot will come as soon as I go to bed,
so I go.
And now,
here I am,
6:30, 7:30, 8
a.m.
awake, looking for signs of his having come.
I empty ashtrays,
stare numbly at recycling pile overflowing beer cans red, white, and blue.
