two Holsteins Pleistocene halt!
Never kill the butterfly
Or time travel stops, upended trolley
The Shakers’ bread mold he
Stood in demon waters, beneficent tongue
Observed as a pond between
two Holsteins Pleistocene halt!
Grab a lot of loot & run doubled up
The gamut has cantilevers too,
Much dangerous stuff for a triple axle
To trip over, fantastically
Th’ head of Lillian, Ultramarine is paid tribute
Gutted-out Gyro, sand & water links
|||||||||||||||
Three-ringed Maximus
Blunders across bathos.
Bermuda sand-white manuscript.
Culls inklings’ violet / violent ars poetica
strands polo-achromatic
Allochthonous unreliability
upon sieves of nutgall’s pot of evening stars.
Nor I evangelized:
“O, Polemic! O, Encomium!”
as I encrypts.
Come in. This shop is for
the living. (The tip of) the-
typof metaphor that gets I
the laughs. For I connives:
Klondike is the matter at hand, dear fasces.
What is this place really?
I’s prime innuendo articulates.
One orbit.
Ass-fucks of I appear
angled.
In part dunesupondunes
upondunesupondunes brass-knock a pose. One half
of I alar.
& I upon stellar, ubiquitous
as relevance,
akin to sense, stating: “Yes, Nadine,
writing is but I. & I but a document.
A craving. A plot.
Plotted in Clongowes. Three-ringed& oft.
No comments:
Post a Comment