“[I]t is the wine that leads me on, the wild wine that sets the wisest man to sing at the top of his lungs, laugh like a fool—it drives the man to dancing…it even tempts him to blurt out stories better never told.”
—Homer
Daylight saving
The dragons follow us around,
Sneaking in and out of the mist,
Shrieking nonsense, a silent sound,
Lonely and hungry to be kissed.
They are two of nine ancient worms
(A magic number in godly terms):
Each is older than the other;
Each is no dragons’ brother;
Each has a near toothless maw;
Each has lost all but one claw.
Out of this frightless paucity,
They have this one audacity:
Yolky eyes loll in scaly lids,
Laughing at our egos and ids.
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