Skip to content

Gypsy

April 18, 2013

fortynine

Annie, Annie, get your gun.
I caught you with another man.
Jimmy Hoffa, grab your boots.
A betrayal I don’t care to stand.

Skinny dogs baying for the leather strap.
Of masters lost to war.
An adder in the heather.
Milk and meat upon the floor.

Edgar, Edgar, call your ghosts.
I’ve filled my glass, let’s raise a toast.
Svengali, fetch your Ouija board.
Decorum dictates we leave a note.

Low swung the heavens to collect the cats.
And bear them to the moon.
By tranquil lakes they built a castle.
On the alabaster dunes.

Advertisements

From → Poetry

Leave a Comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: