Vertical Sips
Taste the mountains on Venus trips
Counting, feeling penniless sips
Howling freely above the clouds
Lying face down amongst the crowds
Breathing the smoke of sweet fresh air
Half – empty glass appearing bare
Flying through the bellowing door
To land upon vertical floor
Hauling shadows whine in the night
Remove the pieces out of sight
The humble escort takes their place
Sleeping beauty bears no disgrace
The hours pass and fade away
As nausea comes in to play
Night before sipped in to abyss
The morning after reminisce
