—Summer, is in the high winds—
grapes and graves pendulate
hopeless \ drained
swooping men into their elixir,
women / bee-stung / swollen
stolen
glances,
sanative—
venom/
what’s yesterday stays,
an onset
of what the night brings—
sit here, sloppy and free
eat
drink
unfasten
run from your shadow,
a beast of your pastselves bred to breed more of what mauls,
leave it to die.
One reply on “demons (poem #27)”
Powerful
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