"boodles" poems
seth's best mix was a bottle
of boodles
and tonic
the rest of the night persisted
with wine and perspiration.
when we die will it be like this?
a vision when sleeping
or a wish when weeping.
the rest of our lives are drowned
in caps and empties.
fog covers the mountaintops
through the hole in the wall
as we escape from under
gin-scented drapes. i pour
maple syrup on your waffles.
Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 6:48 PM UTC
zeitgeist
yuppiedoms
xanthic
whatsits
vibrate
unabashedly
toothsome
salutations
requiring
qualifications
pernickety
officialdom
nagging
malestroms
leaving
kindness
jaundiced
imoliated
horrendous
gargoyles
feign
empathy
disastrous
calamity
boodles
atonement
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 9:25 AM UTC