When old imaginings
rise to their seasons
A slam of thirteen spades
Warm milk and molasses
Stop the rush
Drop the day
Believe this religion
Thank the artist, and
feel the velvet of self.
What a day for a daydream

When old imaginings
rise to their seasons
A slam of thirteen spades
Warm milk and molasses
Stop the rush
Drop the day
Believe this religion
Thank the artist, and
feel the velvet of self.