yesterday's sweet suns
squeezed from your skins
stamped from your hearth
as I greedily swill you
d
o
w
n
Aye, you bring me Saturday night
through the eyes of my clear
Sauvignon Blanc, I see
yesterday,
days long gone...
Evenings I stood twitching,
shivering in prayers
and short skirts
for late night smiles
from last minute hopefuls.
As the "LAST CALL"
peal was rung,
the rueful cabby
swung (as I still clung)
round to meet us.
He always done drag us off
more often than not
single and three sheets gone
what a loss
(not), I'm afraid.
No thoughts to tomorrow,
painful and vague,
from those ill-conceived concoctions
drunk in earnest
far from sane
Did they ever truly present
sweet dreams or even slim chance
of pleasant tomorrows?
Or rather misty moments lost in time
and willingly forgotten in tonight's
s
i
l
e
n
c
e
