Where There's a Glass

at the tavern in the darkening hours a drunkard swallows the small world reflected in his glass at one gulp, emboldened, he dances with inflamed eyes brandishing the ornamental sword taken down from the wall and yells “I conquered the world, I unified the country” “wow, be careful! you may hurt the others” when the sword, however, fails to find the sworn enemy to thrust or to slash the aimless point of the sword flashes through the air and each time he wields the sword sparks fly when the sword dance becomes wilder, the world under the drunkard’s feet staggers; the drunkard pours the unbalanced world into his glass and shares out his spoils looted while dancing the wild sword dance “hey, you! haven’t you heard of Hess’ Law before?” it’s pitiful to watch the defeated ones lying on the floor bleeding from their wounds, the horrors heaped up all day turn into darkness, and as darkness thickens a stray glimmering star appears in the sky above the horizon the star looking at its own image reflecting in the little world in the glass falls from the sky intoxicated by the smell of hard liquor becomes a drop of dew and sleeps lying on a street lamp