Confused arrays

Ashes white, black and grey bundled

With deflowered buds

In blindly painted ashtrays

A flock of un-tamed animals

Ingesting fumes of acidic fuels

Sitting on the high broken stools of a

Mildly brewed pitcher perfect pub

“Where is my Jagger?”

Demented with un-intended desires

A haven of un-realized, burning fire

a Soulless city revisited by the ghosts

of its corporate past.

Come back, for the freshly drunk blood

They have returned to nest and bleed.

Confused arrays and dead bodies in ashtrays

The flock construct a tomb

A grave for those who misbehave

The junkyard of the free

A pub with a bar,

“Drink from the lethe!”

Oblivion was just a sip a way

A beaker held high by its forgetful eyes

Holding water from the Greek underworld river

“Lethe”

beneath it, Engraved in stone

“Your worldly suffering will be washed away

A sip from me will show you the way

Hidden beneath the skin of the un-dead

Lies the secret passage to Covets Creek!”