Been drunk twice today, once 
in the haze of dawn in slumbered pile, again 
before night's drape had drawn a while, while
in-between, through sober gaze, I wished
for clouds that went clockwise by.

Have spun the empty bottle dry, in rounds
with friends who faked a smile, but once
the bell had closed that night, and rung
in hollowed echoed sigh, I stared
at lonely stars trail by.

Then circled twice, like the fluttered moth, part
blinded by the swinging light. In thought
a bulb in chorded flight, swayed
side to side from left to right, whilst I
rambled on in shadowed rhyme,

When the bell alarmed my wake, I woke
just once, then dreamt the dream, when 
time passed slow, and I lay still in grassy fields, 
and watched the clouds go clockwise by.