by Mark Napier
wormwood laced water calls the shots
sugar burns to consume sanity and more
drifting from my spoon.
green fae is about and shouts for joy
at my befuddled state of mind
captured for once and enslaved by time
comtemplation of the old and unknown
drooling the answer for the problem
a simple urge tainted with the laudlum
walk my path ripped by way
of this absinth covered silent
green fae
© 2002 Mark A. Napier