Whisk It Back

whoo whoo whoo
the owl in the eucalypt behind me taunts

the bracelet on my wrist rattles and bangs
it is beautiful and binding

I can’t get it off

your last words to me by email
“Any guest poetry gigs paying airfare costs coming up?

I have a passport….
HelloOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

I drank all the whiskey in August
and you know all the rest

there now, gone

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7 Responses

  1. Could you smoke that thing outside please? We performing around here, you know.

    Jeee-SUS!

    Pour a round please. Just leave the bottle. Thanks.

    This is for you. Keep the change.

  2. its fridayayayayayay, is it beer o’clock yet?

  3. It is, absolutely, pull up a chair! There’s plenty of room and plenty of booze but someone may have to wash some glasses around here at some point!

  4. That is an elegant jewellery poem Gwendolyn, and very becoming.

  5. Sounds familiar – woohoo – rage on regardless dear Gwendolyn – what a lovely pomey thingy. It is beer o’clock indeed tipota 🙂 (the time varies depending on the intensity of light streams or some such stuff).

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