Cackle

Sinister symposium
writhing round my gut
a symphonic letdown
bleeding out my ears

a flashlight in my eyes
burning bright
3 a.m. surprise
a sore-eyed sight

admonish the audience
for not understanding
for misinterpreting the viewpoint
there is no place for that here

administer the minister
to preach at public events
relinquish all reason
and your car keys

here we are, gathered
round the fire pit
we don’t cast stones
we don’t throw coals

and we laugh
we laugh a wicked cackle
a gravel-throated
mad-scientist-like laugh

we breathe the smoke
and we tell our tales
and we stumble home
when we are goddamn good and ready

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