3 drunks in a tent

cold wind gnaws bones,

warm laughter raises the dead.

 

we drink from the severed heads

of ceramic Gods,

 

and nickname the flame tongues

in the campfire

like household pets

and highschool girlfriends.

 

Tom burnt his hand

petting Cassie.

 

something

that belongs here

will probably

have eaten us

by morning.

Reviews

[roarke]

see, that's why I don't go swimming in the ocean.

forget the tent and take up ice fishing....

here's some irony though, BEARS, love gummy bears, swear.
but not the sour kind....

.... warm laughter raises the dead... good information to have, metaphorically one way or the other.

[Samuel Dickens]

Ah, images of good times, though my drunkard days are over.

[Ed Hart]

great write...that last stanza really set me off...thanks