When time is right

When re balloons float upside
Down and green snow whirls up
From ground


When the moon drips silver snot
And stars are moths eating holes
In mammy’s tapestry

When preacher of gloom stalk
Streets of fear and people hide
In tear-stained caves

When the skeletal finger of my past
Claws at my conscience, then I
Know it is time for a glass of wine.