What was it like
to piss in antiquity,
and other such trivialities
are what occupies me now.
The bigger picture;
a one never quite grasped.
Is always there,
looming like a drunk.
Swaying in the shadows.
An unmanageable mess,
best taken home to bed
and slept on till morning.
And when I struggle
from a dream
with a full bladder
and a raging thirst.
Its not the price
of copper, iron or tin
that paralyzes me.
No.
It’s the age old
preoccupation of who to feed:
First,
like the pisser in antiquity.
It occupies my mind,
and makes a reasoned grab
for the nearest bottle
from which I tentatively drink.
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