Another tepid morning, waiting silently
Dawn yet to break, but my head feels that way
These dog days lapse like a bit of purgatory
Standing before St. Patrick with nothing to say
Teetering & more than slightly confused
Checking my watch; praying its not too late
Did my heart stop? How did I go so astray
Jolted back- the Almighty’s nectar begins to percolate
Cantankered nights
Relying on pure belief
Summer nights are cold
First dawn a welcomed relief
Catcalls at dawn
It’s too early for this
I haven’t had my coffee
Please settle down there, Miss
I need a moment
For I enjoy this attention
Such important thoughts
Are beyond my comprehension
The weird specifics of a dream
The foundering theories of the sunrise
Possibilities for an endless dawn
Dispelled traits when we finally open our eyes
These are our prosperous times
When we find the inspiration to achieve
Minutes into hours of falling sand
But once we wake, can you still believe
I feel like a bull in a China shop
I feel ugly next to you swans
Not wanting to detract from you
I wander off into the rising dawn
I try to find a genuine smile
I feel like I’m pressing my luck
I’m not meant to be amongst beauty
For I’m not pretty; I’m just a duck
Knowing the sun will shine again
I sit here basking in the midnight air
A quiet sip from my enduring courage
Thinking naughty thoughts of my lady fair
Knowing I can’t sleep when I can write
I fall back into my imaginative stupor
Only to be shook by the dawn’s yawn
Daylight kicks me swift, right in the pooper
Awake early in the naked, teal morning
Still wet from dancing in the rain
My subconscious kissing her femininity
But the memories remain love-stained
Her fingers gripping my shoulders
Our souls constantly trying to absorb
Soft, low moans quietly evident
I’m enchanted by her fleshy orbs
We’re exposed in the light of dawn
A realness that won’t be concealed
We have a glow of our own
No words exist, but a truth she can feel
The tyranny of our modern age
The repulsive nature of our exploited rights
Coming for us before the dawn
Another stolen soul in the night
But pump the brakes there Swamp Thing
Florida is basically the Outbreak Monkey
We can’t be too safe these days
Besides, a lot of y’all were already funky
I’ll be hunkered down, away from idiots
This blanket fort is causing me to itch
Stay home, so we can eventually go outside
Like Carole Baskin, the Covid is a bitch
