Fresh from the accouterments
of green,
creatures churn out of control
rinse and repeat
he gave me a smile
one down to his knees
the wind a born again breeze
and the moon was born
spinning silver on his tongue
while crows hum forgotten
biennial messages
a post part-em in drums
hell arrives on a River boat
demands six pence for passage
we'll pay the Ferryman
just to go home to get some sleep
but all dreams smell the same;
lost,
in this rich man's world.