Virgins rewrite





rustling saloonsfor piano duelsinspired loonsor drunken fools
a five spot is emptytrading rounds beforeaiming hips and headsuphill for several beds
in the mist of evening, Pinot Grisbourbon, gin, varietalssuited to climb, closelyembracing their vitals
stepping into bramblesbranching off the cliff's edgeswhere sandals trip nimbly past hedges
ascending cathedral hillto overlook a Missouribank, the moon is stillthe bridge lights blurry
drunk to the dregsglassware leaving marksspattering bare legs curved behind knees to arches
hushed laughs in painted maskspouring accidental oathsfrom overflowing flasksfingering crystal notes
fragrant as crushed hydrangeas dowsing the depths; howlinglonely dogs too closea slap that left eyes shimmering
a murmuring chickensleeps standing askewas gnats drink chambourcinthinned by the dew
recalling visions of the shadowless  mound of virgins et al.clinging to hopes they're climbingto heights of a summer, not fall.








ascending cathedral hill

to overlook Missouri

river, the moon is still

and bridge lights blurry


in the mist of evening, bourbon

gin, Pinot Gris, varietals

suited for this climb, closely

embracing their bodies


stepping into branches 

and brambling off cliff's edge

where sandals gather

tiny burs sticky as sweat


rustling open saloons

for piano duels

where inspired hombres

drink only cask strength


the five spot is empty

to share a round before

aiming hips and heads

uphill to several beds


shadows staggering verandas

stemware traces rings

spattering between bare legs 

curving helices arch to seat


hushed laughs in painted masks

pouring accidental oaths

from overflowing glasses

fingering crystal notes


fragrant as crushed hydrangeas 

dowsing the disquiet; howling dogs

lonely and too close, familiar

maws and lips, a slap left eyes shimmering


the murmur of chickens sleeping askew

dreaming of what they thought 

they knew of morning with wine spilled

real and portentous, rippling with gnats


recalling these visions on the shadowless  

mound of Cahokian virgins et al.

clinging to hopes they're climbing

to heights of a summer, not to fall.