red sky at morning

as night carves red
pillow wrinkles into the face
as dreams wash up on
the beach of consciousness
as the penis attempts sleep
the ass keeps pushing
pushing up against it
waking it waking it up again
setting off the seminal siren
the brain hears before hunger
before fire engines before
smoke alarms bringing dreams
to an abrupt but happy ending
the wakeup call the reveille
lead trumpet of the primal
orchestral arrangement
the penis opens its eye
to the darkness that is
the penis-eye view of morning
takes its coffee sweet with cream
rows out into the sunrise into
the bermuda triangle of your
silent saragasso sea
and buries itself
in the briny deep