This will mean something to them
the cocaine debutantes sucking vodka spit
the Du Void Debbies in waxen paper hats
matrix black holy writ
spawning crop circles fae-filled psychedelics
married to midnight grass
wearing blood sash they cackle sass past
flash sharp skirts and short knives
costumed in pine scent and glitter
converse ghosts once traversed the Earth
trampled dance patterns pounded into the dirt
crest-white crescent moon curvature
cradle of the all-colored cuticle
on the trail of the many-headed essence
suspect substances
make-up makes her the celestial Her
will the soundcheck ever be enough?
constellations in constant collision overhead
piss stench hunch in the nearby wood
a swinging hammock is the boscage sprite's ballsack
the gypsies nestled within
the Du Void Debbies in wrestling ring gusto
in ageless pantomime
restlessly tackling the bizarre boundaries of tirelessness
walden pond written with no less admiration
asleep in bunks tuckered knuckleheads
walking in and out of dream
Pan that slippery god whistling their names to the Morrigan
to that early
early morning cajun prairie wind.
TA
11/24
. The Poet's Beat .

Friday, June 6, 2025
Du Void Debbies
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