XI

Start with a Bloody Mary and a slice of toast

The breakfast of champions with a less than holy ghost

She once told me clouds are water in its spiritual form

She had an odd way of speaking with normal words

You never get a hangover if the night never ends

Inspiration through inebriation was our call to send

Buk's my favorite poet, but only when he's drunk

The man with the beautiful eyes and an endless cup

Your dreams are broken down here and walking with a limp

The night moves, but not like a Bobby Seger tune

It moves like river rapids, dragging you through
This black abyss of night, of lies, of truth