I turn off the light-
boldly rushing,
the night, slams into
the room, no social distancing here,
rudely interrupting,
this elegant foray.
bright moments
linger today,
cheering, a guffaw-
cast aside, by
impatient night.
Category: Cereals
There’s a boldness
to the pen, each
sultry stroke,
imagining creation
wings, up
and away,
carrying bold
minds, nearer
the brink-
etching crystal
canvas, des mots
they flow.
A man dreams
midnight, sheltering
sultry bedfellows
bedazzling
beauties, sing,
“X to the 9,
leave it all
behind, sail
as one, to
the none,”
I stop and think,
of days in the drink-
of mirrored brews,
these tears of old,
shed and trodden
through-
Days in the black,
feel so very
red- each wasted
moment, arterial
fed. Toss, and
turn,
midnight exegesis;
a man
dreams, midnight…
One bad day,
after another-
One more, to
ease the pain.
Just, one more.
Curled, wrapped,
in the News, of
the day.
Soaked,
shivering-
sorting it
out.
Lens lie, on
Silver screens.
Opening night,
taking a bite-
I try, not
to gag.
Ocean waves,
override, this
yammering,
spewing, on
and on,
lips moving,
washing,
over me.
Zappity zap,
lightning cage,
insects burn.
Four-Calendar Café 