wee knights and wing tips
and wonders galore
blessing and messing
asleep on the floor
locked in a prison
without any door
alcohol douses
what smiles enflame
cigarette smoke
rings the rules of the game
never say die
is the game's secret name
camouflage metaphor
deep in a dream
hide from the truth
on a lazy sunbeam
sometimes things are
just as strange as they seem
week nights and wingnuts
all thrown in the air
paperweight poppies
from Vanity Fair
opening, closing
and there...
yes...
just there.
Bad Poetry by Wayne Myers