“In the court at night, we debated
the skin of language,
questioned what might
one day be revealed inside:
a pink and soft fruit,
a woman in a field. . .
Or a shadow, sticky and loose
as old jam. Our own
dialect was abstract,
we wished to understand
not how things were
but what spectacle we might
make from them.”
Chris Bronsk 
Thanks, Richard. Looks like the bartender caught me, though.
Fantastic shot!