Tuesday, January 29, 2013

The Winter of Sweet Potato Spirits

I waited twenty-five years
For the moment when
The earth stilled its tilt
Waited for an axis pole to shift
Waited for bodies’ ascension drift
Waited for Armageddon encampments
Waited for brothels to serve tea with sugar
The Golden Age arrived
We were alive to witness
Time lines not yet converging
Like a time lapse photo
Forgetting the moment of a camera click
We drank to the Winter of Sweet Potato Spirits.