« Constance | Main | death of a butterfly »
July 02, 2005
second wind
after the Port of Call
and all the fixins
I deem myself
straight enough
to stand
and I do
stand
before you
with this glass
of agave
wondering where to go
in this mid
afternoon blur
back to the prison barge
to the leather tongue
whipping at my solitude?
back to the mouth
that forms
fists
from my mitts?
Id rather crawl
into a barrel
of laughs
into the arms
of a whore
down an alley
to the suicide shack
if you come looking
for me
watch out
for the landmines
(posthumous temptation)
Posted by Drexler at July 2, 2005 08:07 PM