“Graveyard of Losers”
We were friendlier than friends once
but now we fight to survive
throttled turkey necks and skinned knees
when parakeets caused us whiplash
the breakers bored a worried escape
sent fresh hens through the thistles
and our minds drawn by fingertips,
we wouldn’t do any horse to hose you
nor ride over higher countries,
bucked from our saddles
ladders to higher attitudes
locked from our altitudes
we’re mites sprinting in minnows
and drained rivers, rosy comeuppance
it’s time we faced the prison dancers
torn tears, frayed wrists
for ropes are everlasting,
even under spotlights of rain
assorted passions in bird lips
licked in your poison for never and never.
nicholauspatnaude 
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