zantriflic
shades poppin
through chardonnay sprouts
brain ah cidal cider
clumps ash into orange nicotine tray
the bubbles go pop.
the bubbles go pop
plam, bam,
shaz am,
sure gone lost you,
she trouble u
all night long
& I'm going to
the whiskey well
have my good fortune told,
gonna take my
blind mut cat
gonna find that girl some shells
gonna find that women some coins
throwing rocks at reflections
while bubbles go pop, the bubbles go pop
trouble with you
is I ask for whisky
& ofcourse,
u feed me the gasoline
down on fifth street,
gonna find you standing there
Harmonica all glupy slobber
stuck
to your stoned fluttering
mouth

This poem Copyright 2001 Nicholas Morgan.

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