Le Joli Agoniser Jour Poem by Shelby Barker

Polished stairs lead to the bright exalt
of morning.
A vibe of immense cordiality means
That chill has gone out to fly a kite.
A bit of sweetness added to the sober man’s rum
Is spun into a web for cooling
With a wand.
Imbibe, imbibe, don’t inhale the scent first
Look out through slithers of light
over the french doors.
Les anges planent leurs mains sur votre visage.
Almost touched; still not quite.
The energy potion drops
And on a rim it spins into a black hole illusion
The shine of it would catch an eye -
But both are covered by his palms
His shoulders hunched, cringed
As he weeps - another day,
another beautiful day.
Pauvre homme.