after the party
"O wild sweet festal odes,frenzy without joy" (Caligula, Camus)
later
the sound of the waterclock
prerecorded birdsong and the grey dawn
like spent matches, or Dionysus' children
burnt out heads and twisted bodies
litter the carpet
someone is still chasing the dragon,
speed on the gums and sleep
perfoming an antic dance before their eyes
I smell sorrow, sweat, and the sweet tang of opium.
1994
