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~ By Courtesy of Others ~



Where is my wild wild Wod
Wand full of ink yet I can’t
call up a single vision
Odin walks far from here tonight
as I sit in this café
not a single face inspiring me
The only stirring in my heart
is the steaming plasma of caffeine
No blond dreads of Lokisons
No wolfboys to muse me
seduce me with tender savagery
Eyes shining in ember-fire
from a curtain of mane
Blood dreaming  passion
in a deep warm bed
Of sleep on a silver-stained pillow

© Jim Wise

Image: Cafe Terrace at Night, 1888, Vincent van Gogh (1853-1890), Dutch Post-Impressionist painter.

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