2261: A Pint of Philtre

We will all be of an age –
with a tattered life in our
fou minds in a hinterland

of mistakes – a drunk will
slump across café tables
& sleep it off as rushing

trucks slick gutters & as
miscreants drink forever
under sodium lights – In

daytime’s honest pitch it
squints & rolls over [& by
age best set in biography

& not online we squirm] –
some days life’ll undo it-
self by a noxious potion

by which we find love or
we fall apart – supping it
all is not now an answer

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