In the spring

last night I knocked a bottle off the balcony
and it fell two stories and shattered in the
darkness of the alleyway below and I forgot I did it
and even threw two other cans off the building next door
after that Matt wanted to show me his poems but I got lost
and someone was cutting Joe Rossi's hair, there's pieces of
it everywhere, I kicked a book down the stairs and
Tommy pulled me across the floor, in the morning I woke up
shuddering and blearily walked outside to the balcony
drinking a glass of water and looked over the edge

in the universe down there where it was pleasant and sunny
the bottle was sitting unbroken on its side,
I laughed to myself, turned to call Joe but stopped
and instead leaned over and spit through the heavens
down onto the cool gray earth underneath

there wasn't even a sound.