New Year’s Eve rises like a pearl  

From of a steaming bog

Its promises gleaming

To all the weary stragglers

–

That pulsing isle

Lends a riotous night

Of rolling thunder and cleansing rain

–

Yet its cheap joys rot

Once the church bells toll

And midnight wanes

Into the cold small hours

–

So the saga continues  

Chest deep through the mire

Beyond the faint orange glow

Of that neon-lit reverie