Consider this a momentary
lapse in lavishness.
I came once and ravished
the surrounding hillside
in a comely disaster.
Life moves away faster
after you pinch its digits in your teeth.
I laid a wreath of hair and vitamins
upon the ground.
The sky came once and showered me
with the banality of its vices.
Six weeks on ice, and I haven’t
got a dime to show for it.
Just pour me over the sofa,
why don’t you, as you would a libation.
And I’ll be a libation, if you want me to be,
to the angry deity we service
and his spirit rending project.