Orange Spite

And whisky infirmity, this sprinkling
On my toast is circadian and unholy

Like knives in candy shape or toes
On fire with dreaming.

Solemn obituary tenants
I manufacture crowds of you

Marching in tempo to monarchs
Sloping through social reforms

Puzzle pieces sodden in puddles
Towards and linkable totem, an

Orifice of destinations dropping order
Where gargantuan soda pops

Twinkle to oblivions squared out
By the ultimate frozen delinquency.