At Long Last, At Dusk - Poem by Ray Quesada
You disturbed the antelopes...
The river runs red, Tar Baby...
No it doesn't...
Stop being such a humiliator...
Screamed and cussed at lust and slush
and wanderlust, brushed hair
brushed aside green eyes, at long last
- - - At dusk, drinking from a rustic
plastic flask or a cup of rare,
musty and musky pesticide - - -
Where's my milk and rum?
I rest in a casket; I die
- trust me - Depressed, I cried;
the sky with my
silken thumb - - -
Where am I really from?
<><><> Blessed with pride,
eating pie crumbs
from the crest of this dumb
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about At Long Last, At Dusk by Ray Quesada
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.