Poem for Us
some right-minded godhead
invented the midnight
and the nefarious and madly
chirping night birds
who vivify with
their song
and follow the languid
indiscretions of the languid
and sorry lot of us
through
the lascivious and velveteen
mist
of the White Oak
and the Honeysuckle spews sugarplums
in the stark
and glaring bouquet
of neon descending
Old Scratch invented
the sunlight and the
dull, swarming humanity
every sort of
accursed industriousness