FOOL.S.GOLD
8.21.20
we’re in a desert here
a desert in drought no less
now is not the time to highbrow your nose at the glass half air
that type of attitude doesn’t hold water
or whiskey
they mistake my water for fire
and yes i wanted heat
hot salacious sizzling smokiness panting warm breaths and exhalations
but i wont pass up a watered down experience
hydrating, some say
a lukewarm pool – so shallow and warm it can
melt the ice cubes in the dog bowl of desire
water being the ace of elements
diving from the clouds without a parachute, wings or safety net
running over the steepest precipice, and blinking not a lash.
being buried, and rising again
water walks on fire
and fire gets the blisters.
what was i talking about?
a yes, deserts and droughts
fine whiskey, cheap soda and beer
smiling back when
gap toothed zippers show their molars
suburbia
driving ourselves into a climax cul-de-sac
would you please stop switching gears?
give me crescendo rev give me smooth and constant
that sweet combination of pressure and
oily slick, vibrating frequencies intooo o O…
.
.
oh yeah, as i was saying,
the drought..