Nymphs
Sometimes
I write poems about
Wine and other essential
Molehills of Life at
4 AM when
Bacchus is still awake
Conniving in
Sheer revelry at the
Mere notion he invented
Satyrs and other
Preternatural nymphs.
Speaking of nymphs, I relish the whim that at
4:10 AM or thereabouts, if I rush outside into the
Oozing Black Syrup, I might brush against one,
Intentionally.
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