cricket trysts and their moonshine praises
somersaultin' over cobwebbed chests
jiggy-legged! and a little lightheaded
feeling trickling down into the knees,
whew! a little spice wouldn't hurt now,
would it? rat a tat tat darlin'- just wait 'til
you see the yolk-golden chariots that
we'll ride into the sunset! your hair's stuck
in the wheels, baby; tell that girl to spin it
into coins to keep away those charon types
ding! clock turned 12? i got midnight blues
and greens and all sorts of in-betweens 'cuz
its time to end this final rushed rendezvous
let's not leave it at c'est la vie, mio amore,
but knead the night into earthen bridges
to its defiant birdsong: a beber y a tragar,
que el mundo se va a acabar
YOU ARE READING
CYANIDE DREAMER
Poetrysaturn rises from the valley of my neck and sets in the folds of my hell-drunken veins [ #1 in poetry, 1.25.19 ]