6/17/19 104AM
staring at white water and a super moon
my thoughts drifted over ancient foothills
where my ancestors likely hunted for subsistence
and filled their bellies through work
now lay in this lamented moonlight
hoping to be mauled
my whiskey is sweeter for every person I’ve dedicated it to
you so undeservedly take my foul nightmares
and others even less real shanghai my daydreams
someone out there is making a lemon tart
with wispy cream, and sacrosanct citrus jelly, with a hint of mint
crumbled, airy crust with space in between for air
to let it all breathe
and i sit here clad in graphite