The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Humulenic

Bacchus riding boars to the arena
drum-thumped and heartbeaten, abandoned
to the cascade of causality making gore
of tightly drawn sinews aimed at the
forty point Alpha arched on his apotheosis

Spattered in sweaty swagger wallow
ochre eyes lost to hoarfrost and decay
only to rise to another crimson spray
of libations tipped to eternity
and the lingering elegies we pray

Strike the tap into the mossy keg
and let the lager of the hopsian 
malt thy bituminous bitters stanch
and let ichor pool in the heartwell
til the wolf sees the drip of moonblood

Braced with a flush of restringence
focus settles upon the obsidian spire
with a dendritic stratagem well concocted
the elephants bray at the arrogance of stones
and the soon to be toppling of Jericho's forge

There is no surrender in the chronic hunt
nor hours to sleep upon unmedicated shores
the minutes tighten around tomorrow's gorge
a chasm uncrossed forgotten to the methustian daze
one penultimate thought caught in wavering blaze
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