shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Richard Weaver

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An Imperial pint of Guinness

reflects emptily on the plentiful
philosophy of absence. The lack
of moisture. The unfortunate truth
that no wisdom remains
in its monocle-like bottom
if ever there was any to be had.
It doubts the veracity of all refills,
and marvels at its self-contained insight.
It resists any idea of being handled
or washed of sin, the prideful imagining
itself a vessel of gospel. A carrier of
impossible knowledge. A change agent
in a world where all snakes are realtors,
and everything leaks fitfully
from the urethra of nothingness.