Come, eschew the myth

Come, eschew the myth
of Dionysus,
the cafe with jazz aged
aperitif,
give me ice cream
to stimulate my spirits,
and a parlour guitar,
not bitter liqueur,
for my digestif.

Yes, let Bacchus
and his buddies
revel with the devil,
give me chocolate
raspberry swirl.

Don’t say, “Out of peaches
‘n cream, try a frosty
fruity pilsner.”
Ok, bait and switch,
if you can add a scoop,
please, and make it float.

The evening passes slowly
amidst dark cans clatched
down the dry alley where
sleeps Suzy with Sobrius.

Displacement

Adrunk
he becomes
the drinker
who drank him.

Take this cup
all of you
and drink
its whine the engine

of the cat
contemplating
her contempt for her
need for you.

Adrift
on a sea street
starry eyed
night
ears black holes
no sound
escapes.

And the nose tastes
hours of laundromat fuzz
falls a third time
near the blue dumpster
behind the fishmonger’s
by the cold chain links
in a bed of weeds gone to seed
spreading like a hatch
of artificial flies.

One he swallows
caught
hooked through the lip
jumps pulls and runs
down the path
to where the deep water
creeps awake
in the darkness
its thick jelled
mass motions.

Days of Wine and Roses

The days
of wine and roses
palm trees green
leaves dangling in bronze breeze sea
fallen fronds found for tiki faces
carved with pocket knives
in soft dry wood
of branch stalk deep eyes
and sharp shell teeth
long slender days
fat pug noses
and sunburnt legs
beaches galore
nevermore
a sober sunset for two
the days
of wine and roses
are here.