There’s a vinegar tang in the air
and a cigarette between clenched lips
an empty bottle and a smoky square
folded and charred
Head down and (nod)
abeyance of consciousness for moments or hours
time meaningless as the stuck second hand
on a broken clock
this is not nirvana nor some acme of bliss
just another nadir of escape and the temporary
conclusion of sensation
Head down and (nod)
the culmination of decades in a moment
but forgetfulness can be the alleviation
of high-minded ideals and low-slung sorrows
this is not an ecstatic rite nor some soul serenity
just the discontinuation of feeling and loss
Head down and (nod)

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