Previously Published by Absinthe Anthology Project (Hyacinth Press) . . .

Ritual

Drip.

                                   Drip.

            Drip.  Drip.

Lonely aquatic tally taps

top of cube.  Sugar

                                silts through silver

slots.  Erupts (in seemingly slow

motion).  The louche begins, clouding

Peridotic hue.  Gemlike

                                       liquid densifies,

strengthens, a new body

                                         ready.  La fée verte

has grown wings, stands:  prepared

to fly

          along your tongue.

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