CAMELOPARDALIS
A terrine of different live-in's haunt your rusted sheets,
You're a red-bellied cherub roundworm digging indiscreet.
You're an innocent in all of this as the fog fills your skies,
you can see their Iscariout, but still you will not bathe!
He wears full sunken dragon, doubtful dutiful babe.
Raffia weave with a patient tip, wear them forever drawn and wash them
in the lowest depths of your clouded lake.
Woolen leopards edgy bangs and pin-tucked satin dresses dance.
Elctrotype bedlamite springing single-action;
subpoena serving in the bedlam glamour of a misty rose.
Glass-eyed mermaids in mesmeric knights mail
oust another supernova.
And lazy eyes won't look at me,
but they still swore me in.
100 vials, 200 vials, 400 vials---pores downpouring nanites with
SNCC chemistry as it were contrived.
Soaked cornflower blue, cranberried you with chilly awe.
Coat-wig gone wrinkled in ghost sphinx rain tempo, feisty footsteps...
Doorway kicks the charms.
She searches for his hot-keys,
all our eyes, minds, and kidneys.
Lacey they are streaming for all these tricksters suiting.
Abysmal blueprints burning
as it were a lamp, and it fell upon the third prat of the rivers,
and upon the fountains of the waters; and the name of the star was wormwood.
And many men died of the waters, because they were made bitter.
You're leaking quicksilver on slivers of your ornamental bitches body!
The giraffe, faint like Perseus glimmers in the ankle of her cast.
Nylon whiskers frisk an electrical stagger,
but still they will not swagger up to a hill of dule trees.
Preschool seasoned, high and mighty senses sense radiant regions within the peachy throngs.
Squawk! and weary redheads, you're all my favorite facelifts...
YOUR HEAD IS STILL A SPARK PLUG!
YOUR HEAD IS STILL A SPARK PLUG!
YOUR HEAD IS STILL A SPARK PLUG SEMI-CONDUCTOR!
Crowned original, veiny vintage hall.
In a gibbet where all of us can march!
Fire engine evening for all the coffin-dead,
we are all the same aphids when the lights are off.
Wasabi finish fakes the freight lines---shovel-faced and seduced.
All these answers are inside us.
Where there's might, there's right-handed rabies, speeding tickets, edible snails,
and the squealing mirrors and flaggy fingers rebuking your goddamned soul!
Written on February 10th, 2006
in
The land of Mary
Posts
2 comments:
Today was a fire engine evening, THanks for the Wasabi poetry. Your one of the best aphids on the river scene in Upstate NY.
My Pleasure!
You're very kind
mysterious stranger.
Have we crossed paths in
Neo Eporacum?
Post a Comment