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Hangover

Updated: Jul 4, 2022

Eldritch dreams shiver me

Awake as Dawn caffeinates

The embryotic morning.

Right on cue’s the hustle

& bustle of the city in

Mechanical crescendos.

But something feels… offbeat.

Like collywobbles stifling any

Oomph in the air,

So I plant my roots

On the veranda, cig & coffee

Nonchalantly in-hand.

The Sun irksomely skims

The morning paper — He’s

Heard from the Moon.

Soon too Mother Earth stirs

Dewy-eyed, hair curled & mortified

By the plunder of her pantry,

Her forbidden fruits

Bludgeoned and bled into

A bruja’s Beaujolais;


Her cherubic vegetables

Butchered and sautéed into

Some spoiled soup du jour

From the midnight shenanigans

Of burlesque alley cats

& masquerading rats —

O chiennes et batards! O brutes

Et brats drunk off Hakuna Matata.

Such terrible children.

Already the trees reminisce

In windy whispers w/

Cicadas in their afros

To help didgeridoo

The gossip afar of this

Grisly joie de vivre.

Twelve more hours

‘til the keys to the

Miscreant’s chateau’s reclaimed.

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