Hank,
HANK!
Can you hear me through those Buk ears and Buk teeth?
heh heh
(I don't think he would have laughed either)

Hank, wake up!
You're sober and dead
and the world is still in hell
The gods are laughing, but no one is listening
They've all stopped up their eyes and ears with sanity, politics, and baked potatoes
The madness of horses and drunks and horn-men in Venice is gone
There is not much left these days
your books
(which I have always liked)
and your music
(which I never have)
and madmen waiting to be fought in the back alleys of seedy bars
that is not much, Hank
but for tonight
for lack of drink and lack words
that will have to do

AcB 03.22.01