The Harlot and Herod

Joe made a few sounds,
And was gone,

He gurgled and,

Racing across a moonlit sky, left
Puffs of smoke;

Little white markers, like a string of pearls –

Each pearl a landmark, an
Exclamation,

Here I did this, and
There, said that, I

Sense him in dreams now,
Covered in green smoke, and

I listen to his tales of dragons and fury,
And madams and God, I

Take notes too on how to die.

Published in: on February 8, 2018 at 20:23  Leave a Comment  

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