At 5:30 AM on December 28
Venus is a blowsy cheap whore
As high as she ever gets, in the SE
And the snow crunches under my bedroom slippers,
While I hunt through the wood pile for just the right
"Got wood?" she laughs.
It's a drunk laugh.
I've scratched up enough coals
Under a bed of Christmas cedar,
For just the right peace.
And I go back inside;
The sun can chase her all he wants.
--Silk Hope, NC