We smoked catnip in wax paper
put our lighters to the birches
said we'd scorch them into paddles
and we'd glide on down the river
so Orion panting swaying
shoots his arrow to the bottom
of the boat where we'll be playing
dirges ballads til the morning
flushed alarmed wavedappled fevered
sometimes singing sometimes baying
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
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