Michael Cluff- A Poem

Untitled

Indigo umbrellas
ameliorate before the mid-morning
mass of bellicose soup
quivers within the centipedes' side
understanding a conceptual farce
in these early mid-afternoon nights
totality finds forks delicate
trying to slip down the path
inbetween shots of bad whiskey
nicotine knuckles dilating
grips on jammed roque mallets
nick off the oaken balls
orotund in November
risque sounds forming inside a chanting
crowd looking for elegance
or a least a soft-core bloodless death.