The Buzzing of Boozehounds and Morfiends

[Bueller]

I would clap the jokers between my hands
that circle around you like horseflies -- the smokers,
the shit stokers, the cock strokers.

The casanovas, the supernovas
that burn bright and transient,
I'd swat them away

if you weren't smiling
at their bites like kisses
and their wings like monarchs.