how it went down with Harsubagh at the lockdown cafe

We're chewing the fat out of pandemics, drinking

exotic mud from Sumatra's steamy mountains with

jiggerfuls of Bailey's Cream. We're going to tear down

 

the Lyceum tonight and awaken in the bushes tomorrow

with aftershocks still crackling in our heads. We're brewing

more of this explosive octaine, ranting about Aristotle,

 

mist rising from our fevered brains, obscuring the room

and jazzy rhapsodies as we have out of body experiences,

my eyes so full of wistfulness I can feel my words

 

reverb, becoming more profound as I kick off

my wing tips and begin to levitate. We're dealing out

our full deck of vocabulary words now, two high rollers,

 

two espresso worshippers approaching our frenzied peaks,

our Machu Picchuan summit. One or two well chosen handholds

and we can haul ourselves onto the lowest rungs of heaven.

 

We are astonished by our radioactive brilliance, H fallen to

his knees, fallen flat in his green ravine of shag carpet, joy

spilling from his eyes, the heady, drunken joy of javaphiles.

 

--M deO

Done