4 AM on the porch
unfiltered Pall Mall in one hand
bourbon and water in the other
watching humidity and heat compete
as, from somewhere down the road,
I hear Clapton's "Tears in Heaven"
Trying to put the spitting cobras
Back in their wicker baskets,
So I can get some sleep...
Instead, I watch the false dawn
With its false hopes and dreams
Begin a new day
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.