Alone and Drinking Under a New Moon

Lately a week feels like seven days.

And April has a tendency to freeze frame.

So I wouldn't say this is enlightenment

but I've deconstructed so much bullshit

I can see it in another almost instantly.

This makes it difficult for new relationships

and all the old ones have gone South

to die or be with loving grandchildren.

I like the Chinese poets and their way with wine.

I choose a stout instead seeking moderation

only because I value benefits of deep sleep.

This is where the poem will take a turn.

The absolute unknown is what I am

and every night I like to circle back

to pure awareness, black as Tao,

completely lost to memory or moon.

This is why Li Po jumped in the pond.