12:20 pm Nonsensicle Joy Juice

The noon whistle blew not long ago

I got up way too late today

my head weighs two tons

and my eyes fought a good fight

Can’t think of a single sensible thing to say

and I am a sensible sort of gent

Always pay my rent

But this is an afternoon built upon angles

and angels dressed in blue

an afternoon in the afterglow

of some thing or other

I don’t remember but

I was taken up to the peak and

stripped down to the bone

I laughed my ass off

I was scared to death

tossed back into the sacred salad

like a shorebird upon a beach

12:20 pm Nonsensicle Joy Juice

take from this poem what you will

I can’t think at all today

I can only hang

like a glider upon the sacred wind

of nonsense