Drains the last of the bottle

Looking out into the blue-black bruise of night

No trains coming through ’til morning

In a blackout he meets his own dark soul

But he won’t remember it in the morning

He listens with Jack Daniels’ ears

For something, for anything

He watches the static of the old tv

Waiting for God to speak to him again

And just before he passes out

He has an epiphany, which is then lost

Inspired by The Daily Word Prompt: static