I had just arrived back
At home
At 1:00 in the morning
Fully prepared
To watch
The annual passing
Of archaic meteor fragments
Flare across the night sky.
Some only the size of sand.
First discovered
In 36 AD.
Tonight
Would be prime viewing
For there was
No moonlight.
But I just came from a reading
And I’m drunk.
Drunk from words.
Drunk from high proof moonshine.
Drunk from people speaking words
About being drunk.
Drunk.
A man got dressed up
As an elderly woman
And read a recipe
About
How to bake
A ‘Heavenly Angel Food Cake With A Sinful Cherry Center’.
It was hedonistic
As far as recipes go.
Another writer
Read a story
About criminal activities
That took place in a quarry.
It involved bulldozers
And teenage invincibility...
Bad decisions and cigarettes...
Adreneline
And mishaps.
It was very real to me.
I listened on the edge of my seat
And it brought me back
To my childhood.
A handsome
Well-worn man
Read a poem
About 300 lesbians.
I listened to a proud poet
Talk about his son
Who chased his dream
Since he was six years old
About becoming
An aviator.
I am too drunk from all of this
To stay up now
In hopes
That I’ll see some far off trails
Of the annual fly-by’s and waves
Of Perseids.
They don’t give a shit about me!
They never have.
They have have not given a shit about me
Since 36 AD.
That itself is astonishing.
It might’ve been the perfect night to check them out...
Again.
I’ll try to wake up at five
In the morning.
Astronomists concur
That it should be optimal viewing
Barring cloud cover.
But words from fellow journeymen
Were my meteors
Tonight.
Burning through
The black sky
On fire.
Infernos
Each one.
Moonshine
Was only
A plus.
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