Kevin James Salveson april s intellectual bacchanal

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Who among us
sweeps up the lipsticked cups
of April's intellectual bacchanal?
Who washes out the empty ashtrays
of Heaven's humidor?
Who shakes the celestial fruit
from the solar tree?
The stars are gleaming white apples
turning on the spit of creation!
Who among us slings open the curtains and
retorts the curses coming from the footlamps?
Who unshutters the windows to the soul?
Who begs for loose change with a cup
made from the bones of years past?
Who sucks it up to distill the
sweet sugar water
of the intransigent?
Who rattles their cage and
demands the music box be wound?
Who, bellylaughing, rumbles like
a trashtruck in the morning?

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