Foggy Dens

often, i slam gavel on crowns of consumer
cogs in old cigar club orders
stored in box for blazin’ up
when lost in fields void
of opiate flowers

as caged, blind-deaf ivory
poacher cowards
,

oh those old grey mares and
black-tie, rope tied
bastards!

meanwhile i’m slippin’ down gaps
in my own sofa into
opioid clouds,

and i’m not sure the musty
dark down there’s served
me any better

they’re all go-getters,
but i let go, n’ down
a chaser,

now i’ll go catch ‘er
n’ embrace
her.

image: https://www.artfinder.com/product/white-on-black-background-with-red-poppies/

image: https://paintingvalley.com/opium-den-painting

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