Late night drinks
With ducks in the background,
Chirping out their lungs.
New friends acquanting again.
Talk is cheap, but going places.
Another drink, I take a beer-
Sip down what the worries carry,
Down to the depths of where nonsense goes.
Fold the apron into my purse,
Spit chatter till my innards bleed-
Bleed out the truths kept hidden,
Hidden, waiting to be set free.
Should I project the usual tantrum:
Of roses being red,
And violets their deepened blue-
Darkened by the vague layer of what should be said,