always a finalist
though never the one
&
it’s the potable H2O
in the bar fridge
i need—
can it be
my clouding eyes
(i mean my vision)
or the reasonably priced bottle
of
sauvignon blanc
that
i’m sharing
(as we stretch together
into a timeless misery)
with the philosophy professor
from melbourne—
an, although riveting,
increasingly worrying
situation
from which
it might be impossible to wake
before i even think
of sleeping—
kept up, & alert,
by an urgent
contingency
& (possible) opportunism
that could be
slowly dismantled
by the friendship machine
or even
(boring perhaps to some)
the very isomorphism
agamben or derrida
or
some lacanian or other
warned us against
before
we desublimated
into a cool, casual enjoyment
(though not without
emotional labour)
of
too many drinks
Pam Brown, a dedicated amateur, has published many books, most recently click here for what we do (Vagabond Press, 2018). She lives on unceded Gadigal land, Alexandria, Sydney.
