TIMOTHY BUSINESS

glass dupes wrestling vipers and goodbyes
drenched in white tequila 
and women that deserve better
stuffed into a bin
half dreamt 
barely periwinkle

timothy business
gloom frumped and petulant.
clipping wings that belong 
to inner birds
plump with handcuffs 
and gravity…
his weapons asleep
and battle funky
because the law of his heart
is deranged.

silver-
shearing sheep like a job
to clutch agony from freezing
to death.
but keeping the poison
that half reads a book
and long loves coffee
because awake pays invisible bills
and the renting
keeps you in a house
drying up fast.

a sweet face
sour-dashed.

and kelp on the sun
because
poetry..

So Timothy. At Last.