deepundergroundpoetry.com
Imbecile of My Mime
When Sagittarius doesn't have his hat on straight
in my journal hidden in a quill's widow
sometimes the depraved imbecile of my mime
when memories just saddle the way of lost trails
hearing echoes of osso buco, bone with a hole,
genuflecting to the saffron steeping my epitome
tasting the bitter artifacts of my sanity's shadow
when my embattled mind won't give me time
swashed in Ouzo, tonight, crossing the Rubicon
of unchained felonies drowning in muted orgies
in my journal hidden in a quill's widow
in my journal hidden in a quill's widow
sometimes the depraved imbecile of my mime
when memories just saddle the way of lost trails
hearing echoes of osso buco, bone with a hole,
genuflecting to the saffron steeping my epitome
tasting the bitter artifacts of my sanity's shadow
when my embattled mind won't give me time
swashed in Ouzo, tonight, crossing the Rubicon
of unchained felonies drowning in muted orgies
in my journal hidden in a quill's widow
Published 12th Jul 2023
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