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Crushed

I shake crushed ice
Each night half past seven -
My rule used to be no booze
Til the boys were in bed.

But the rules have been bent
For night falls faster
Now that I’m alone.

Brushed aluminum capsule
Lid with strainer snapped snug
Small cap on top to keep
All the poisons inside.

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Cap A City (Wordplay)

A city
Cap it.
A pact?
Pat it.
Tip? Ya!
Yap cat,
Yap cat,
I pay.

Capacity

Clearing out the shit
Of a long line of interlopers -
Left what they didn’t need
Like cat turds dried
Behind every furnishing -
Increasing my capacity
For joy and other news.

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These savage

These savage
poets take mewing life
in jagged jaws
rip in to feel the blood
drip from their jaws
or swallow into their hunger
or spray bathroom mirror and floor
they rip up everything
pawing for pomes
inside.