Punch Drunk

Written By Glenn McCrary & Jacqueline Webb

Dusk settled,

Yawning,

On a Wednesday evening---

Myself just awakening.
Silently,
My bones,
Groused,
Screamed in protest.
My body declaring,
“You were not made for such hibernation!”
My mind shrugging off such accusations,
As I made my way,
Like the restless dead
Into a bar.
Entering the smoky dive,
I spy a lady----
An agate portrait of a temptress,
Graces my eyes
(The silver screen which I view my world)
Makes me instantly smitten.
Indeed! Such a lovely spectacle this vision!
A yearning to fill the meaningless void stirs;
Punch drunk by a state of awe,
I shuffle my feet in her direction.
We talk.
Discussed ourselves.
The pettiness of others;
The greatness of each other---
Was all that was on our minds.
Destiny!----
To have met on a Wednesday,
When the rest of civilization sleeps
And forgets of the nights delicacies. . . .

© 2011 (All rights reserved)

Drunken Conspiracy

Dancing in his slumber to

The beat of Billie Jean

Moaning and groaning

A number of things

The betrayal it stings,

The gargoyles sing

Of a life consisting of

UFO's and crime scenes

Under the influence of

A drunken telepathic cadence

Stealthily he sneaks into her mind

Croaking the faintest of whispers

With no remorse he asks 'Darling

Would you like to drink of the

Black conspiracies of the liquid

That inhabits my drinking glass?'

Her dead body crooned

a soft,subtle lullaby

spawning the words

'No, no, no baby let my spirit go

I bequeath you to let me rest

In peace beneath the frozen tears

of the morbid echoes of the snow.'