ribbons

of blue&white
tacked to
the Wall
above the
ruin&the Wine&the waste
on the broad oaken
table.
the pack of Parliaments
w/just two left, pens and
candles and
the empty bottle of
Faustino.
the summer it was
grand&triumphant,
hot but
replete w/the kind of losses
you’re thankful for
like being shot at
with her gun when
you knew the chamber only held
one.  that’s what
summer was-
a donning of hollow godheads,
dancing down blazing streets of yellow
collecting talismans
shaken from the tower
each one
with better luck.
each one with better luck.