Haiku: 17 Drops on the Tongue

Fives…sevens…fives
show’r
           d
           o
           w
           n
              like drops
                               of acid
                                           from Heaven.
Now,
I see.

Bermuda Highway

Just tell ‘em I’m gone
down the Bermuda Highway—
her ghost in the passenger’s seat,
Reaper in the rearview,
suitcase full o’ time in the back.
Going…Going…Gone.

Like Heroin

Sucking us in,
spitting us out
like blood honey in a syringe
into the bliss of an infernal heaven—
this hypodermic love—
you
are the sugar in my veins.