The Wandering Eye
by Antonio Hernandez

'Twas the eleventh month eve

with a hangnail moon

in the inkblot sky

and fruit with flies

rotten in the gutters rank with piss.

 

The lovers returned,

drunk and gluttonous

their lips shining with fast congealing grease

and an empty labored laugh landed in the street

like the body from the window last week.

 

As she clutched to he

with a slant eyed grin

she reeled and said "I saw your wandering eye,

on the barmaid it fell

on her breasts that did swell

with the fast rising hangnail moon. 

Beneath inkblot skies,

amongst the fruit with flies

rotten in the gutters rank with piss.

 

He laughed and choked

yet stuttered when he spoke

"She with the pearls?

And the long flowing curls?

And the jewels that sparkle and shine in light?

Belinda the young pretty barmaid?

'Tis not my type,

but a flit in the night, 

come sit by my side 'neath the hangnail moon

and the inkblot skies

by the fruit with flies

rotten by the gutters rank with piss.

 

And the moon sailed fast

through the stars amassed

like a scythe through the late season hay.

He fell against she, and his eyes closed too-

the weight of the waking world upon him.

 

He dreamed like a boy,

sweet visions of joy-

the barmaid in nothing but jewels and pearls.

"Belinda!" he spake

And she gave him a shake

in the light of a hangnail moon.

 

Closer she danced,

sweet kisses she did blow,

her hand reached out to his face and neck.

In her hand was a spoon,

that shone 'neath the moon

A pretty thing, 

just a flit in the night.

 

But her hand moved fast

the spoon she drove past

his eye she did pluck

with a sickening THUCK!

that then rolled to the gutters rank with piss.

 

He woke with a start

with his eye that did smart

warm blood did flow

on sheets white as snow,

he shrieked and howled in the night.

 

"Belinda!?!?!?" she spat

With the spoon in hand

and the eye she had carved

"Worry not my love,

'Twas a flit in the night,

nothing more, nothing less, rest!"

 

He shrieked and screamed

and her eyes did gleam

as he moaned and clutched at his face

'neath the hangnail moon

fading in the night

with the inkblot sky

and the fruit with flies

rotten by the gutters rank with piss.

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