Friday, September 30, 2016

Drawn and Quartered Nightly




She called the shots tonight:
vodka, jello, .22 caliber
popguns in the woods.

Now she's gone
but we're friends
on Social Media.

The trees could turn pink
tomorrow.

Cats gather nearby
plotting my death.

She sends me a sticker -
thumbs up;
my liver feeds the strays.

Watch the felines stagger to their
back porches before dawn
where we all sleep it off

in our own way.