Nap
Event horizon out of sight
In dusk dissembling tobacco ochre
standard light.
I cannot see what is or is not to be.
Only others see hour hands slow down and catch
a halted final glimpse of this afternoon
Grimbeau
Scroodles
July 25, 2016
Chisholm Trail Dawn
Join me as I slink to twig the silver
dust away from the campfire’s embers.
See the fire glow: teaspoon it to flame,
Carefully perch the tall, crimson pot atop,
askew atop that is, and dig the day’s
latrine with that small yellow plastic spade.
We are on the outskirts of the craic of dawn.
Scantily clad tidings of cheap skates and
Square war-jaws, cousins to sleep’s hazel
snacks and myxamatosis of your mind’s eye.
July 25, 2016
daylight robbery
dawn breaks on the bough
replacing weary night;
werewolf and dogman
return to their lairs;
and, we ride out
to snatch Tyburn’s necklace,
and plant it deep in
undiscovered clays
Grimbeau 