Foster Blaine - Huckelberry

Of the drink, he learned
that there was no bottom
to the glass, just a bottom
to himself which he could
only glimpse in the bottom
of the glass, which was not
there.

If the river were whiskey,
he'd have no need for rivers.
He'd see where land sticks, rivers
turn, and far off shores would call
from where there was no river
for him to come, if he could,
there.

Foster Blaine

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/huckelberry/