Thank God. I made it past the minute hand.
    It's after 10 and my soul is black as midnight.
    The snake hair girl never showed. It seems I'm
    always lost in wonderland. Up is down. The Red
    Queen holds court. I drink the best I can to
    stupid. We roar with laughter at stories told
    by Korky. We feast. We sing and candles blown out.
    I sleep in a cold bed dreaming warm of snake hair.

I chased my dad into traffic
thinking he was leaving me
broken leg alive was magic
an old man will always see.
I try to remember the tragic
but I can only let it all be.

I float above my host
one more drink heals
pain burns the most
that he no more feels.

I check my morning shaving mirror
for my existence while I disappear,
thankful judging eyes of family
are no witness to my peculiarity.

I expected to die by now.
I'm lost in a lost world.
Bette's 92 lost in her past.
I visit she sees ghosts,
thinks I'm her brother
asks about our mother.

Rip our jaw away
silence the sway
we have for folks
excite provokes.
Feed us to Judas
one more exodus.
Nailed to thunder
left us to wonder
why are we so alone
for humans' atone?

The air was thick with temptation
  perfume on her fingers and mouth
  irresistible her ****** invitation
  my tongue moving to her wet south.
  I taste Eve's nectar,  smell my own
  spilling over the ****'s soft walls.
  It feels wonderful not to be alone
  without a need for a pair of *****.