Dark and violent classical piano
Plays on the dollar store, solid state, off brand, radio
Minor tones with syncopation
Sonata Tragica
As she packs up all her clothes and cosmetics
And is sure to grab
My last pack of smokes
On her way out the door

I’m still waiting for my summons from Lhasa
A letter from my Maharaja
I’m waiting in line to clear customs
Declaring everything, seen and unseen
Known and unknown
Forcing down the afterbirth of revolt
And smoking sativa in my sunflower garden

Wearing masks in public
Dreaming past the social distance

– PW Covington