90 DEGREES TO THE EAST

Still sweating from bikram
so on up to the tower;
(where laziness might often
add a word like power
i won't cuz don't is the name
of the game these days);
but power was at the tower,
in all of its majestic grandiosity
as the masked sun set
on the midnight me
in all of my half-drunken
Bacchic revelry, leaving
Bacchus bawling his eyes out
and Kokopelli fluting
for easier fare, having come
to the conclusion that
i'd rather be here than there.