Mariner Verve On

by on June 24, 2021 :: 0 comments

Banal poured and populated,
crated towns mottle a sheer ocean shore
with bustling sounds of ample women
darting in their saucy tea hive.

Weathered men gather at sunset,
single file they enter
the “Mariner Verve On” pub
for white-knuckled drinking
and songs of A Garlic Orca
whose meaning they forgot
on a sea orgy long ago.

A maid clothed in stubborn hope
candies apples with dark desire,
tastes carnal moons and shadows
awaiting the Betrothal Ferry.

A worried father feeds
Kielbasa Bark Ruts
to the town’s chat felon,
who spreads milky thighs
in the tresses of his mind.

And the mural painter
observes the required silence
to collect fig barks
for the Coda Oven to temper
with words gnashing in the wind.

– Anabell Donovan

editors note:

At any bar; cloaked hope, stolen chats, and gnashing for the perfect pick-up line. – mh clay

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