Saturday, December 3, 2011

Spirit Land

Cajun Choctaws race with old lace and arsenic
Without so much as a place to regard sin
With a spirit man in a spirit land'o cathartic

From bayous and bourbon to rum punches of Ashbury
Haight'ed with corner stones and zorba-phones of brasserie
Orca laced with rock medicine jazz-mastacy

Winter towers fret with winter's bone
Waywardly beseeching,
Reaching for you on a drifter's home.

Creed worthy,
She worried with a stencil's worth
On grassy fowls of plantations,
Imaginations of Kenilworth.

Magic makings,
Ratified and baptized with cap worthy mur,
Kaleidified and stratified with apt turvy words.

Routine-esque nature in the last days of lasers
Ongoing coffee, with Coco's and Robicheaux's, and Euterpes, and grazers
Shards of my soul shed, and all I'm left with is razed Earth

[For Coco]

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