Following:
observandoHigh above a passing bird, I sank a Gibson cocktail. I was
Bloodless from a perforated heart and wanted something
To replace the squandered fluid; felt the lure of mental illness; just
The other side of that too-solid window, I could catapult - but
Madness seemed like tiger balm, despair like acupuncture, so
I watched the evening terminator trailing blinking lights along
The night-devouring island to the twilight-loving Park. Up here,
My local drinking buddy, getting over someone too, was drawing
Street plans on a napkin. She was down there in those canyons,
He said, breaking hearts and traffic lights, accepting serenades
From stunned New Yorkers and their girlfriends. Then, I think we
Drank a toast to her, and raised a glass in praise of feeling low.
— Patrick Chapman, from Breaking Hearts and Traffic Lights
— Aeschylos, The Eumenides, lines 864-866