I saw an elixir of pluck and folly in bars and in kitchens, even in libraries. Among a pack of brothers and sisters it could be chilled in ice or toasted in sun.
Around a great orator we gathered, buying laughter and cerebration. In giddiness, we all met each other; Our hands clasped in fraternal contest.
The key of Longinus pierced a man’s side and nectar trickled from his chin to his toe. As I watched him drown himself, the flavor soured on my tongue.
It was crushed and compact; A distant clang in a frozen street. Slumped in the grass, one limb at a time with a wide-open mouth, we stared at the sky.
Galaxy upon infinite galaxy; Alone but not lonely, numb but not without feeling. An outstretched arm raised in rudderless toast To the meaningless world, and its meaningless host.