Drunk Dream

[Guest Shiva H. Vishnu]

i've rolled back the ceiling

with buckets of gin

and i'm scraping the skin

from the stars falling in

 

the moon is all toothless

and sliced paper thin

but pulls at my focus

disrupting my spin

 

and crouched like a refugee

fleeing from space

a shadow slides over

to finger my face

 

with lips like a lover

and fist like a mace

in moments i'm mired

in stillness and grace