Eyes of the Viper

What a strange
set of chaotic carousal
that tilted our earth
slightly different,
woke up in quite a fright,
storms and
witches brews are
a-comin with
the moontides
that were so strong
it seemed all the ladies
and lads
felt the pull of
her gravity,
even more heavy
than twas average,
heads slouched
down and over
by the weight.

And I suppose,
with directness,
hilarious candor,
I spat back bitch at you,
the stereotypes that I
felt so chained by,
oh so many boxes to put me in,
so little seconds passing,
as if someone was
filling half my lungs
up with
dirty bath water,
the hypocrites,
us all,
hating on quick fogged “instinct”,
you might’ve called it,
“sentence first,
verdict after,”
screams the
wrathful queen of hearts,
and don’t you
just and even
remember yesterday?
I do.
Time did blend
and sneak together
the weekdays n turnings
to nasty weekends,
oh honey,
I don’t think you even
realize your
yummy teeth
are showing,
madness was my speciality,
so twas a
bizarre pleasure,
in a wicked way,
a rush of blood,
senses taking me
outside my body,
hovering round ya
to the right,
waltzing round ya
to the left,
kundalini and magic
of the ancients,
whose names
I remembered in
my sleep
and sang to them
amidst round tables and checkmates,
luscious naked twists and turns,
my juicy curves
mouthing out,
words in old languages
most had forgotten
with the distraction of the
cement age.
I kept my face
close to the ground,
lips open and heavy breathing,
learned earth tones and
rhetorics of insanities
and viper voodoo,
feeling less human today
than other days,
so sorry bout that,
as if my soul
cradled itself with
weeping willows,
under the dirt
sinking down
in the rain water,
breathing fire in
the mornings
to awaken the sun. 

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