Arthur Flockwhimsy Poet I do not know?

Bourbon On the Breath

In this failing light

Beginning's start and end

Without Shade.

A single wave, my bones are lonely

But a ghost can’t whistle

Nor halt time, like the end of a Day.

And Flowers jumped

The air grew loose and Sloppy;

An immaculate slur present

in every gust and vowel.

Crumbled force of Clouds

I’ve earned this Right to Stand or Sit,

The Weather will not Move me.

If Deaths Mouth is Set

On Biting Faces,

Then what Matters the inside or out?

Wind and Water, Dirt and Spit,

 A Drunken Howl goes Crash! the Sky.

I sit among abandoned conversations and spilled

Quickly vanishing bright eyes.

Trees bend and snap

Waving me to Safety, “You Fool!” they Shout.

I breath In---

----a reply

                       Yes, yes…

“There’s Bourbon

                     On the Breath of God 

                                                            Tonight.”


-thend-

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