Endless Glasses
Sweet bitters
spoil in the reflection
of the restless glass.
To oil muscles
that pivot
in the dense, dark rust.
Inebriate stretched walls
and call it calculated.
Rise slowly; capillary action.
Lament the empty
tumbling upside down
inside out, turning.
Take me swiftly
ill spirits.
I want to drown.
Bloom full and broken
into the morning
of discontent.