Falling? But I am not even tired

I’ve got the shakes at 12:54.
Something is definitely curdling up the lumbar.
Don’t worry; this isn’t another hop vendetta.
Just a little night swimming.
Where the chill in the air is reverent
And the body submerged stays baby fat.
The medicine just hit the brain
Talking militia youth – strength, strength, strength.

I took counsel up on the mountain.
“You’ve got to calm down.”
“Back off the ladies and back off the scotch.”
You’ve gotta shave that skull,
Back off the chocolate, the biting and the sleep.
My head came up, teeth clattering, pennies in the wine bottle.
Its winter up here,
Up where gods and beasts and philosophers
Take in the wind as breath.

Why up from the den on a February night
With no moon to reflect against the otter’s sheen?
The cold of the atmosphere sought
By the pulse in the back.
The spine bent in protective cotton down
Whips the phalanges of the vertebrae from dreams.
Mad, harsh potential called to the back of the eyes.
And I cherish every hint of instinct
And every other man who appreciates eagerness in quavering hands.


-More Verse Coming Soon-

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