Happy Hour

Worries wash down one sip at a time but it's not about time or circumstance it's last nights call to the wolf unearthed in abandonment unabridged and speaking with the elders, half mad half Italian, jars of juice spilling with linguine and the longing look of yesteryear fantasies fulfilled if only in mind winking women who have yet to try or cry friendships, cheers, inhibition tomorrow oh what is tomorrow if it comes the moon, the sun lost moments killing in the best and worst of times it will all be dealt with then