top of page


Updated: Apr 14, 2022

Stone-cold before the chiminea’s embers

Amid this bummer of a night in December,

Galumphing through a thrift-store of thought

I remember the most remarkable figure — a face. Hers…

Warm as the magic of a midnight summer… Distraught,

I surrender… & with my chest torn asunder

And my tears for treats she eats my heart

And later my sanity as a scrumptious tart.

Picked clean a la carte by her quick depart,

So sour’s her memory from so sweet a start.

We met one night, a night in the middle,

Cozy in a meadow bedizened of weeds

Where soft as silk she spoke her riddle,

Soothing my heart seeking darkest needs.

And thereafter for two weeks we wove

A grove in Revelry’s mystique to rove,

Where I was Adam, and she was Eve,

Enraptured in our Eden ne’er to leave:

Freed to feed from the fruit forbidden,

So ne’er our spicy pursuits laid hidden.

But, alas, when elixirs of lust drained

Gradually too the cosmic dust waned.

And here I still am in Single’s purgatory —

A dingus in a fuss, regurgitating the same

Damn story of Love’s lascivious flame:

Moping for this wicked Winter to be over

& give way to more chances for romances

In clover.

2 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All



Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page