Sweet or spicy, ¿who can scent

brimstone watercolor flooding

buckets brimmed of pavement meant

bent below the toes of bloody

skullcap shrooms in dusty noon —

{ guess I best bring out the broom } —

tombs so late & all so soon,

cheering chilly autumn gloom?

Colored gray won’t keep me sober;

drink before the season’s over —

To you ghosts, let’s toast October.

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