Always Was

Hyacinth garden

Statues drinking beer whistle at the costume girl in a torn dress.

It always was a consolation, alleviation of misery and distress.

She always wanted to be elegant.

She always was sorry but never repentant.

She always was within the fatal nightfall of fitful afterglow.

Nevertheless, she always was a grass widow.

Listen to the breathless doggerels announcing refrains.

She always was a voluptuous lass on those tear-jerking vomit-induced campaigns.

The shadow of her wind is like verse on the march.  

Platinum-blonde hair, hourglass figure reveal the cleavage of an aortic arch.

Around her neck is a reptile’s tail tickling her nose.

She always makes an image like a skeleton face striking a pose.

Listen to music in the dark crawling to places reminiscent of,

Like when she wakes up, she looks like a witch that is making love.

She always was a woman afraid when mysterious men talked!!!

However, she always was enamored with the sounds of asphalt when she walked...

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