Friend Dinner

One and half ounces of bai jiu 
and I'm re-reading a pop philosophy head
who sprays drunk prayers that cast
light on that dark healthless way

In between deep fried chicken wings
and moving away from direct air
conditioning, I say that I thought
I might have said myself one too

Many ways out of memory, one 
more spate of truculent adjournment
which wishes for that type of emptiness
that sleep sometimes grants 

To the clear shut eyes 
who have burned their
last speck of visible 
worry