I pour myself a drink;
no friends for company
— Li Bai, “drinking
alone with the moon.”
A thief has been drinking my wine. I think
it is Li Bai. I thought drowning after
falling overboard stone drunk would make drink
somehow less bewitching, but a lover
of the moon and wine will always love moons
and wines. My poor Li Bai found you cannot
hold the moon’s reflection or a typhoon’s
fury while on the water. Once I caught
him in my cup, offered him sex instead
but he’s a cold-eyed and dispassionate
ghost at the best of times and turned away.
So I’ll remain sober and old deadhead
here will remain dead drunk. Such is our fate.
At least now he has a friend who will stay.
* * *