Of Dilettantes

Jaia Papitz's picture


Ghost flight, againThe poet


With smoke

Around, the air smiled

Forbiddingly coughing

Sat a bit across forever just around the bonfire

Cataclysms in between, hades and purgatories all gateless

Among swigs

Breaths were minstrels, clowns

Third acts of winks & skipping jukeboxes enveloped in warm stone pits

Let them cry, it’s a tragedy after all

The sparks made a speckie impression

In the upward’s fade

When the abyss of laughter

Came between the crooked teeth


Bada-bing, Bada-bang

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