a glass had stood before me,
filled to the brim with
crystal liquid,

with two hollow icy cubes,
shrinking to nothing,
slipping away.

I took it up -
                and down.
refill -
       and down.
                     once more -


my senses, by now riddled
with alcoholic holes,
soaked up the spirits
of the night,
the crowd

used them to
                   contort
            twist
                            move the music
that screamed from all the walls,

to any shape, any place,
I was there.

the spirit was, anyway.