Vinotok by Sean Patrick Leary   Breasts overflowing from medieval garb, dance through my high altitude alcoholic haze, along the shadows of the dark lit street, seducing me to give in to the autumnal equinox, and follow the Green Man.  The maidens circle his staff, passing bottle and glass, singing, we’ll toast your wine, and drink your brew, and maybe we’ll make love to you.  They spin in flowing dresses to the beat of a hand drum, toward the four road intersection for the trial of the Grump.  Under the Crested Butte, backlit by harvest moon, before a council … Continue reading Vinotok