High truth for a high court?
Ha! I'd like to see it
Down here, where the doubting
Dowsers and diviners
Give away their gifted
Gimlet bits of wisdom,
Scraping for escape and
Scared of what they're saying.

Dream a little dream of
Dreary hours, sleeping,
Finding where the fire
Fries a firefly like
Loving something lovely
Loves yourself inside it
'Til the timer's ticking
Tells you you're done cooking.

Passion-flicker pyre,
Pipe the heat around us.
Brace your shoulder's burdens,
Burned to smithy sparkings.
White-gray flakes of winter,
Wilting tinder's children
Scraped together, given
Gimlet stares and scattered,
Dusty little leavings.
Lean against another
Passing bottle-poison,
Poise and cold forgotten.
With a little winking,
Wish the glass a fullness.
Call the bottle closer,
Clothed in sunset glimmer.

Hearken, seeking hero:
Hear a scalding skald song!
Venture bold and bravely,
Bring a vintner victuals,
Sup on mead of mulling!
Mete the morning's merry,
Fortress; stand in fastness,
Fear no sorrow stalking.