The Art of Tetman Callis

the full moan rises
as the sin is setting.
the bids are settling in
for the nought. house-cots
begin their evening wonderings,
bets flitting overhead,
pursuing incest. watch-dugs
hail and burp at passing
shatters. livers bond their
buddies to gather, empensioned
ones swatting and mooning as
head-lice arc across their boardroom
walls. stirs spackle
the nought-time skis. son,
the tune will slap, its
inheritance at rust under
the shunning full moan.

(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)