Piety and Desire
by Beau Boudreaux

    We should have known.  Without a hint the moon
    darkens on time and I get bored about
    three or four A.M.  You're off with friends
    or working in the basement of the house.
    So I go out to stroll down one of these
    streets this late at night.  So few souls left in
    the place--I wander past a girl asleep
    in leather beneath the whining neon--
    these alleys we used to walk along at night,
    the countless shops of spells with lovely lotions
    and voodoo potions poured into your bath
    that one, the powder sizzling round yor hips,
    its scent I knew so well, has lost its charm,
    my horns are useless now, the world is warm.

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