Lupercalia, Mardi Gras and your constant need for explanation...

'Painter Working, Reflection', 1957, Lucian Freud ©

Lupercalia, Mardi Gras and your constant need for explanation


write the poem and
fuck the people 


so it's Friday night 
and drunk is a given 
clothing the loose shoulder 
and forgetting what is right/ 

I'll eat, like a baby after this, 
all primal desire and a drive for more/ 
just because humanity's nuances 
become filtered clarity 
doesn't mean charity forgets 
the giver can get mean/

we were young once/ 
the brandy and snap roar 
of a fire gives me will against 
a thousand razors 
winter is 
what death 
strings onto 
the outside 

low angled suns, 
dare my ears 
surrender too/ 

I'm staring off 
into time as distance 
most scents are left 
wanting bodies to explore 
other than this quiet desert cold

EJR ©