high up on the mountain
bolstered by belladonna
and swaying hips over
the bottomlands i screwed
in a light bulb on my
bulbous nose and went
blind when i saw the light
damn the savage who sniffs
around in somebody smarter’s
business— oluf the tribal council
ping pong with sticks and drums
and a taxonomy of gourds
playing with shadows
until they too get gorged
on the night’s obscenities
row out row out into your sadness
but we will be together at
the end

This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply