AND VISITING HELL WILL BE NOBLE AGAIN
I dreamt of Master Toad last night,
of swords and pistols,
of blood and come,
and a little erotic mouse
who lifted her skirts to show
lacy pink panties with
the crotch cut out.
and hell, of course,
and how drink will be
the ruin of us all.
but really it’s only
your ruin. or maybe
it’s only ruining you.
and I remember the last
time i saw you, sleeping amongst
almost empty bottles.
each with maybe a
fingerfull of booze and spit
in them, and all the love
you could fit. and before
the moon sank and before
you woke i queitly drank
all that love and spit
and alcohol and the moon
opened the door for me.
and i left, filled with
your love, and your spit,
and your ruin.
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