Poetry

A dirty word 
waits for the chilling moon. 
Be aware now. I am 
going to ask the black mountain. 
 
There was no credible 
reason, why did you wait 
so long for a chimera? 
 
A chaste excuse for 
seven seas. They wanted a close 
encounter with aliens. 
 
This was spring of orange 
and black monarchs 
who have to distribute 
the gifts for hunger earth. 
 
I cannot understand myself. 
Sometimes I am happy, 
sometimes I start grieving.