The Country Mouse (Online) Dec.04
the nicotine outcast
scavenges cigarettes poolside
while dregs of the party
sip Tanquerays with tonic
and linger over cheesecake.
Nothing is as blue as the pool.
The night, narcotic, welcoming,
lengthens; spreads itself out
behind a buttery August moon.
In the morning, huddled
over coffee, everyone is
blown dry by sunrise
and smells like almonds.
Thoreau Before Dawn
Four feels odd, I suppose,
except to those who rise at five
or, as a rule, at half-past five.
Most of us must toil and strive;
do not have the life we chose
so long ago, in which we’d doze,
in which we’d trust in God at least
to toss a piece of daily bread
our way, by which we’re barely fed.
But long and long before we’re dead,
we’ll know the nature of the beast:
we’ll trust ourselves, and starve, or feast.