the long nights

he used to wait
until the sun went down
before pouring his first drink.
then he thought,
why bother, why
wait. i'll pull the shades,
and get to it.
once settled in
with his cut lime, his tonic
water, his cubes of
ice in a tumbler,
then gin,
he'd sit by the window
and take out his phone.
he'd begin to call
each person he knew that would
listen to his long
list of grievances,
always adding how much
he loved
the person before beginning.
soon it was dark,
he opened
the curtains, the blinds,
to see
just a plain moon
blinking through
the soft clouds to which
he toasted
before staggering to bed.