6: 15 Am Poem by Kim Dang

Murmuring in the background lies the twang of guitar strings
Cooperatively overlapping, not interrupting, the sound of morning avians, calling.
Their foreign tongue harps to me in octaves and E notes, guileful.
Slower than the gentle sway of willow leaves,
than an important wrinkled deliberation.

A manufactured message just concerning life.
Setting free my idling soul, the one residing in those darkest moments before dawn.
I want to smash myself against your wide smiles.
I want to open century old champagne bottles.
And down it all like childhood ambrosia.
My Welch's grapefruit juice.

I want to thrust at you the happy endings.