if i hadn't had the drunk luck to meet you

i’d have married every bedside witch from here to east dallas

i’d have glistened like a worm to their mescaline psalms

i’d have mired in sinuous wineskin, repentant spectra

i’d Om along in cooing groups, babble with freethinkers

all my endeavors would be gas station derelicts

all of my wrongs would be quasi-continuous

even the over-sought moon would protest

and i wouldn’t recognize one half of the universe