Friday, 22 May 2015

20. That Morning Regret

snuck up on by the captain
in the pointy hat

    palms over the eyes
    pushed down the stairs

you try to lie, you are
swollen flesh
    oozing through hammocks

you try to read, the words
mate and shriek
    as sugar-addled baboons

you try to whisper quiet words, but
they drown
    under white static daggers

snuck up on by the senator
of morning regret

    try hot sweet tea
    try bubbles & oysters

there is someone out there waiting
to say something nice

they'll scrape the soil from the teeth
that sit in your jaw like graves

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