A little crazy midnight poetry
It stings like dirt in a splinter hole,
pummels down my craw with the urgent burn of a nettle shot.
Stuttering, sputtering, flips me willy nilly,
a sun-burned pancake,
now sizzling with hot buttered readiness.
Thoughts scatter, flustered, grabbing.
try to hide my luscious eager yes beneath
a leaflitter of rapid, vapid extemporization,
slightly moldy explanations and fluttering masses of old poetry.
Ottering to the surface, I see you
leapfrog the swiftly flowing excuses,
the squirming mistakes,
landing squarely-bop!
bop!
bop!
on the heads of
mythological exs I thought I’d buried deeper.
Impossible! I declare, glaring at your beautiful face.
You can’t be here,
holding my fractious, drunken heart
in your tender hands.