Sinking into blinking little green light
Inclination to crow with little delight
delays as the days are stalked by a night
that has Solomon’s ways benighted by fright

By rights a soft palm should soften the Psalms
Salubrious sentiment given over to charm
“Enchanté, madame” comes the whisper through calm
As wisps of hot wind brings desert to farm

Opprobrium comes with a coke and a rum
Appropriately high strung, still on the run
Baring straight, ballbearing from the barrel of a gun
he pushes himself to where horizon hits sun

Someone somewhere has the ears to hear
voice offered verily, year after year after year
After tears disappear with the distance he fears
they’ll leave only the stain of the one slain here

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