Tequila at sunrise
06/02 2023
Grasp for water under cypress trees
And miss the hyacinths' bloom,
Or in fits of sleep, oh, how I feel
Those lonely sounds in your voice,
Which sings to dying prisoners.
Still, however, you ache after my touch.
The snake tries to eat its own tail,
And the world on its own collision course.
Generations of bones emerge to dance a tango,
While you, doomed to die twice,
Try to keep up with the steps of a statue.
You take the bet with the worst chances,
Yet you always win the jackpot.
What are casino chips worth anyways
To the sculptor who can just make more?
Ask the captain for the course
And listen to his attempt to avoid an answer:
"Even the doomed deserve a second chance,
Just not at the cost of my ship."
Warm up the engine, we're going back,
Back to warm winters and cold summers.
To begonias and bees and barley.
God is on the TV giving a sermon
On how to grow the best, most red of apples.
Mother will strip you of worries,
Father will help rise you up.
Doomed to be raised twice,
Make the most of it the second time around.
Water your daisy, time is running out.
You get advice from priests and milkmen,
Seeing how the sculptor messed up your countenance.
(Now of permanent residency at the bottom of the ocean)
You mumble in a vague voice in his ears,
Hoping he will fill the blanks with fears.
Instead he goes to see a movie alone,
And when he returns find that you've gone;
The key by the light in the window.
A spark of life is too much, but eternity never enough.