I drank martini after martini while they “workshopped” their poems.

We extend the language.

We take our gin warm and neat.

I am writing this on a cocktail table in dim light.

My voice had a terrifying whiskey tone.

Speaking in public, be quite drunk, be manic, be very well prepared.

Planting words in you like a grass seed.

Let me sleep in your bed.

If someone burns out your eye I will take your socket and use it for an ashtray.

Fool!

You do drink me.

I sounded a bit drunk—but those things do happen.