The Night comes back
She brings rain and songs from the past
I enter her moistly
Aware that all beginnings
Return to the same end
This chthonic aperture
Night in the deepest register
Of my soil
Night in my dark stars
Night glutinous
Night night

Here, in this grieving bar,
night after unyielding night
At the mercy of the error of my ways
Drinking frothed and/or creaming
Sanguinella
By the thimbleful
Shirking duty, obligations and my destiny
I don't know what the story is
I think it's downside up

The Friday night was guilty
In as much as it knew it was Friday
And raced on regardless
Towards the Saturday morning
That was, more than likely, anticipating
A sunrise
None of this felt important
None of this was earth
Shattering
And yet
I had nothing more to give
"Ahh, eloha"
Some chick at the table next to mine
Answered her cell phone
And I knew at that moment
Actually knew,
That my nights were numbered.