Little fingers
making dresses

I put pleasant things in my mind
for living's sake, for beauty

high on Halloween
drugged up, boozed up
practically living in the ring of mushrooms I heard about as a child

when I checked out
every fairy book in the library. And then they weren't real.

Pretty thoughts are like los aves, the birds.

They fly in around in my caged mind until they are shot down
forcibly taken down

and used for food in winter.