deepundergroundpoetry.com

wolf

the moon slapped back
after I ate it in howl.




Country road, Toyota Camry
turned 454 big block
badassing in swerve state

spores of the wide-eyed sport
sitting in trunk.

She sips the nights last droplets
discarding the bottle at 80 miles
per hour, and this is lion country
the roar of the court system stalking
but she seen some movie of herself
and it's showtime baby.

Should have known she had storying
to sew by the soft black in that
short summer skirt that well armed women
wear when homicide needs to be subtle enough
to not be noticed

and she leaves lipstick on cigarettes
behind the set of Oblivious To Fire
by waving her arm out the car window.




By the end of the road she has invited
the full spectrum of passion. I will wake up
tomorrow with a swollen hand, and a door to fix.
After I roll a smoke, and piss off the porch
I will kiss the hole that the moon left in her forehead.
Written by lightbaron
Published
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