Thursday, October 31, 2013

may a ghost tonight make you hysterical


One of my poems from my ebook In Lieu of Opium:



soirée macabre


Let's all touch goblets of nightshade and drink.
Sing to shocked moons hung with bad poetry.
We're already ghosts, don't dread All Soul's Night.
Why argue the treats tricking from great delusions?

Lock arms with lucky imps and skate on thin ice,
where winds catch throes of all peevish caution.

Mingle and mix and dance if you can.
If you can't then dance more furiously!

Dash pocket watches down on gravestones.
Bother and startle and wake timeless sleepers.

Everything trembles with uncertain waiting.
We're already dead and don't even know it.
Float on this night like moods of old martyrs. 
Fill up your goblets till fear staggers laughing!

Once each year, it's good to drink nightmares
and scream at the bones beneath our strange skin.







1 comment:

  1. A ghost may come;
    For it is a ghost’s right,
    His element is so fine
    Being sharpened by his death,
    To drink from the wine-breath
    While our gross palates drink from the whole wine.

    --Yeats

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