Libation,

Libation, North Carolina, 1999.

The poem is called Libation, and it's for my friend Vusi who is in the audience here somewhere.

It would mean bloodshed.

Crime? Killing? More bloodshed.

No forgiveness without bloodshed .

Without bloodshed and war.

Bring wine.

On the booze!

Tequila.

I'll take the wine. Good evening, Mr Jefferies.

Here's the port.

In that way he may prevent bloodshed at his doorstep.

Ugly stories of conquests and bloodshed.

Drink some cognac.

Don't drink.

Two bottles of rye.

In his cups, you mean.

A couple of bottles.

This wine is excellent.

Your father is drinking himself to death.

Oh, and some brandy too, huh?

I have some scotch.

Booze or women?

Drinking you mean?

How much for your wine?

To avoid further bloodshed, we might arrange terms.

I don't want any bloodshed tonight.

The casual drink is non existent. Liquor cabinets are probably being filled.

Blood needed to be shed if a better world was to be baptized.

Have to spill a little blood to do it. No.

If you choose the path of bloodshed, then climb to the very pinnacle of evil.

Give me a bottle of wine.

Not bad, this cognac.

Tell me, are you a drinking man?

One straight rye.

Most people drink a little.

Of alcohol. Of moral anemia.

I drank too much.

Where? Not in your wine cup, Gammad.

Sit down and take some wine.

Alcohol. Very pure alcohol.

Hey, she loves those flabellina oculina!

I'm not much of a snifter.

Tastes like choice wine.