I awake in early morning when it's still as dark as night

I find the floor with feet then stumble to the doorway barely missing

Table legs and books and shoes like icebergs in the arctic seas

And I'm a drunken captain muttering at them profanity 

It's a dark walk to the bathroom, my pupils slowly adjust

I feel the hallway walls with right then left then right hands teetering

Back and forth and back and forth and back to everything I loathe 

About the way I grasp the toilet seat and kneel contemptible

I am blinded by the bathroom light, recently accustomed to

The mild orange of humming street lights, those dim dark and smoky rooms

Yelling over bands and amps and bars and blaring radios

Summarizing epithets to friends I'll never get to know

I hold onto the sink, drink some water brush my teeth

I stare into the mirror all these cliches stare back at me

I'm too drunk for anything except for drunk sincerity 

I make my way back to my room and I'll try to get some sleep

I pause a moment in the doorway and look at my cluttered floor

Where white light has come to rest in a dissected rectangle 

Split up by downturned blinds as it fell from outside of my room

A ninety million mile space flight then reflected by the moon

Or maybe twenty feet from here 100 watts neglected glow

In my upstairs neighbor's bathroom through a clouded glass window

But lay the origin in the heavens or wasted electricity

The spotlight on my floor still pure and good and oh so heavenly

I look over at my bed where a shaved leg lays dissected by

Cotton sheets from a body so similar to that light

Yeah she may be holding orbit, divinely destined to repeat

Or a fickle bulb I cannot control turned on and off by whimsy

But the beauty now well it is the same

And I'm no detective anyway