Meanwhile Standing Water and Covered in a Cloak of Darkness by Steve Sibra

The minister’s daughters are naked

they sparkle

like ice cream cones sprinkled with fresh grass clippings

 

They gallop into the kitchen for flapjacks and hot buttered rum

San Francisco Style

Boggle the ricochet batter

flips, nips and knapsacks in the pan

lap the splatter from the walls

bare back prayer rack

“The words of Jesus are printed in red” they call out

Hillbilly savior sings into a can

 

then bare ass on the table with contents

sit wide with a hotcake on each thigh

cracked into the breeze

it’s a natural high, but wait

Boss Man has a couple of last licks

polish up the horse tack

ransack the peppermint sticks

 

Following pup protocol

scissors treatment for fools behind the wheel

at this time of night?  Get real

busy with the daughters as they start to pop

Honest report?  Or just jackstrop

with no jockstrap to ride a wing and a prayer

pull all the feathers off

watch it grow back as hair

 

Men with clothes start to perspire

that Holy Bush is red hot with fire

apples sliced and placed carefully on top

slather on the batter, cook it into shape

Finally after breakfast

there is lovemaking on the rockpile

above the snake den where the peasants

build ladders and strain cool water

through hot gunnysacks

frisk passersby who walk

under penalty of The Long Climb

if their women balk

 

The minister lets the naked daughters

thrust against the minibar

slide wet across beveled mirrors

run the streets like molten underarm hairs

They bathe in the sinks by night

standing water, covered by a cloak

of darkness

 

Two wisps of smoke come the blue daylight