nocturnal birdie

digging apple crisp crumbs from beneath my fingernails
jagged and pearly nervously bleed
licking the last drop of red shiraz from mother's glass
staying at the table awaiting satisfaction
the halogen lamp dims
and i am ready to explode

give me cheap vodka on ice, tart and bold
lemon lime loud and smoke
just want to be the music that's making you sweat
i want middle of the night back door creaking closed
running along the river bank
blooming bodies clad in tiny shorts and slips
like water on shivery moonlit skins
lips grazing candy necks, rapid unfamiliar fervour
just want to say and hear all the things
that will seem like a dream come morning
when, effervescence waning,
we splash our faces in the gas station sink
read, create poetry in motion
soon to be unfurled
sleeping angels with dirty faces stow away
home

what we want is not chaos
chaos
is thrust upon us by the set of their jaws
well trodden paths and monotony
chaos is our curiosity
a stepping stone to what we need

you must first forget you're afraid
in order to be free