Candy Ass

As night slow-gestures from my prose,      
There’s nothing I know that comes close;        
       
The second dumpster to the right,        
And straight on till the morning light.        
       
There’s no sunrise can shed its night,        
A sunset in the throes of flight,        
       
That holds a promise near in debt,        
A mutt that shakes its fur of wet.        
       
As envied as the honored vet:        
He’s known by other prison con        
As zip code two four six O one,        
       
Who keeps the neck up on his coats.        
He’s thick brown lager beer that floats,        
       
I’m light weight like a Sloe Gin Fizz.        
I write soft soap compared to his,        
       
All froth & foam that cleans & clears        
All things away then disappears.        
       
Leaves nothing left not even smells.        
My verse reveals, his never tells.        
       
In night affairs, between the drinks,        
The disappointments’ broken chinks        
       
Are scattered ‘cross the angry bed        
Of matted noir that runnels red.        
       
I watch afar, Bukowski grit        
In fascination I’ll admit,        
       
My reputation, and a pass        
Says poet who writes candy ass.       
       
To shiver with appreciate        
While gazing up between the grate.        
       
Let out the tender... bastard then,        
When dank and darkness settles in        
With plaintive cry, Where have you been?        
       
Recalling what they said in school        
As if it were the Golden Rule:        
There’s candy in the dumpster too!        
       
       
       
Copyright ©️ 2018 Jade Pandora. All Rights Reserved.          
NaPo/GloPoWriMo 2018        
(Bonus prompt 9. Poet: Write a poem about another DUP poet.)