Picnic

Picnic blanket vacation in a field of mud and trash;
Cracked gemstones of amber and green bottle glass
Teasing the light as it dances on my wounds.
How long I waited, waited for this very moment.

Tight lipped and tight fisted, fingers clasped
Behind your barbed wired jaw, holding your tongue.
Bloodshot glasses full to the brim with my dreams,
Clouding my vision in stereoscopic protraction.

Passed out and passed under the table,
Off the official record, and nailed to the door,
Waiting for my blackmail birthday checks to clear,
So that I might bounce when I cash out.

Now, the echoes of pain tingle in soft bricks of nicotine gum,
Never aspiring to be a sticker album of addictions and prescriptions,
Went ahead and drank the spoiled milk, choked on it,
Let it flow over your cracked lips in those sour sordid ways.

I’m in the briar patch and I've lost my crown,
Throw it all to the wind, kissing on your frown;
You’ve made me suffer in your curious flight,
Honeybees sting in their own sweet swarming soliloquy.