Did you mean to say that to me?
It must be the candle smoke
bringing tears to our eyes.
What is it that we set the alarm for?
We are rocking-rocking on Linoleum,
clutching old gloom, twitchy-lipped.
We are on scraped-bloody knees
and on stone tablets from anybody's god.
Caesar paws his sunlit head,
walks rapid beside his stallion,
saying to it, Keep an eye on me.
His shade laughs at omen and shield.
Baby says, What you don't realize....
Sand and sawdust, last times and new times,
able more and able no more: Take it easy.
For the love of some god, put down that glass.
A river-shallow late summer in Georgia,
Doc Holliday feels askew... reading Euripides,
Better a saucy whore than a mother-in-law's
finicky daughter. Doc feels older than twelve.
Before the many years detached, solitary:
cash in a cranny and a prairie hen over a fire.
Furnished many moments calm, a few mud holes,
it was plenty to watch a Wolfhound nose a cow skull.