The drive home--too soon--from the evening’s celebrations:
scattered street lights, golden hues moving in epileptic waves
the unconscious coast on the interstate
for you, the half-drunken dance with raw chicken giblets
which fell to a ***** floor, with a flying, broken peeler,
skins of butternut squash, my
confidence.
Four hours pass, I stay on the couch with my wine,
the cat, & fresh salt streams ‘til sleep arrives.
You left me to be
with a dead chicken.
Lonesome Saturday eve.
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 6:35 PM UTC
The drive home--too soon--from the evening’s celebrations:
scattered street lights, golden hues moving in epileptic waves
the unconscious coast on the interstate
for you, the half-drunken dance with raw chicken giblets
which fell to a ***** floor, with a flying, broken peeler,
skins of butternut squash, my
confidence.
Four hours pass, I stay on the couch with my wine,
the cat, & fresh salt streams ‘til sleep arrives.
You left me to be
with a dead chicken.
Lonesome Saturday eve.
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