Poetry

Romancing Neptune 
had an 
amorous wish. 
The body is water. 
Take it, 
split it, 
and then become a doormat. 
 
Blocking the fiesta, 
a ghost brings in 
storm, in a glass. 
Will you drink the moon 
in night? 
 
The street now walks in, 
taking a call to kill the shades, 
of wrinkles. You forgot 
your name and move 
gingerly from post to post 
lightening the lamps.