High & dry (a mile high, the mountain desert) coming from low & moist makes for some interesting "sleep," especially over Whiskey Row:
A big red rant-hill of fiery Solenopsis invicta (back-wheelers), creepy crawlies and worms.
The sound of silence does not arrive till 1:59 a.m.
Just before six (penetrating sweet slumber), invasion of the storm troopers.
And if you don't know what any of this means, neither do I, thoroughly scrambled by homeostasis disruption.
|The Point (speakeasy)|
|Their Western Negroni:|
Thumb Butte Sage Gin, Bitter Liqueur,
over a single rock