Orbituary

Orbs in the hallway dance to bad music

As my blood pumps to your breath jig weezing

Pianos constant in my tone as I love into your fragile bones

Bruising so steadily like track marks for drinking buddies

Fetal positions for morning smooth legs and chapped lips

Cracking and bleeding like the dryness of your fingers tips

All day sleep over

Under layers of duck coats

A longer lasting hangover

Under roofing of 1921’s lost souls

I sleep with a beauty and drink with my ancestors

My lovers a go-getter and I rest a compost

Something one should embrace for change

Like the screen door that squeaks and wobbles open

We laugh at closure as we stay out after hours tonight

Joshua Tool 12/28/2009

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