Midsummer Night Poem

I walk out into the Mystical Garden
Where cicadas are busy sawing off the limbs of the elm trees
In the hedges hang the bones
Waiting for the Bone Men to come
My Mother used to tell me of the Bone Men
It scared me.

My heart is beating wildly in my chest
There is a half-eaten chicken in the driveway
But no water to wash it down with
No Moon to see by
Wine splashes into my glass
Did you pour it?
"You are a Master,"
Come out and visit, we will write Hymns to God
"That sounds Divine".

Darjeeling's Unobtrusive Obtuse Horoscope For July 2, 2012

Vega, Deneb, and Altair form The Triangle,
A Window of Magic in the Northeastern Sky,
The Dowager Empress counsels you to beware,
Don't manipulate things by the Breadth of a Hair,
So your friends will be friends but can also be sly,
You'll have to veiw them from a different angle,
Knowing that some of thme might not always be there.