Saturday, October 22, 2016

2 poems || John Pursch

Jumbo Expert Dusk

Powder kegs drag xenophobic noon, grafting crazed amulet makers into wicker faucet storytelling carapace irrelevance, tossed to vernal sequin chalk by crying racehorse parkers. Brinksmanship eludes deterrent maelstrom palisades with quickly spurned immunity, flashing tyrant air raid smelters beneath highly anonymous chosen fugues in bugle notch emulsifier squirts.

Gradually, the planet occurs to alimentary imperatives, granting pleased partridges a furlough on sedentary saddle soap incursion poles. Of course, seated so very high on such a wobbly platform made for plywood paranoia, parabolic paraffin, and mustard effort reminiscences, sought sparingly by flirting but witty foxes on fleeting feel-good fabrications of the phased facial tungsten of duodenal shaking snores.

Maybe it meant nodding off again for the umpire’s teeny empirical twine; it was certainly unclear below the prankster’s sallow anklet. Parallelograms converge in Kaiser doubt, cutting grazed pocket perfection in harbored animus of ostracized reductive sweet meats. Set another mouth on the sternly styled bearing, swapping peeled barter arrowheads for cotter pins of keelhauled ocean cues.

Shanked robotic swans delve into corroding scenery, tickling funny cagers with ether. Destiny obtrudes when yeast expectorates on stewed professional imposters, scheduled to involving stone locution’s airy shale support.

Savory ladle sinkers love erroneous sonic clover phones, fins erupting under scintillating bunts and triple high wire sack illusions. Aerodynamic floods propel mealtime porridge algae weeks through thespian stabs, sifting spools for jumbo expert dusk.

Buzz Saw Flyby

Gorilla imprint sky surrenders fusillade of touring sphinx in caterwauling waveform pendulums, barking dogs, a stray coyote, and now a plaintive human voice, if only for an instant. Shuffling thermal anterior cackles far beyond a crunching crawdad crockery platoon of plastic bucket sidearm vicars, ostensibly pocketing eight ballistic tentacles of marginalia left by arboreal reliquary tales and talismans.

Featurettes demur to digital halitosis, scented out of touched giraffe, quaffing cooling grapevine forts, imbuing silicon cucumbers with jacaranda planes of steamily eschewed bloat pensioners, stepping softly to attuned embargo claims. Antelopes elude effusive insurance salesmen, stepping by hoodwinked oratory curio concocters to slip on shanty codicils in sullied culinary sacks of clothier looks.

Bookish transformational dishes flex their tawdry bodice backstops before gazing gazebo grazers, giving gam gazelles a game, a gamete, a gamboling ingénue to gavel into gravy gravel, gone to donor diminution laughter, cockatoos of cradled kumquat courtiers, in cantilevered pet gyrations far above elusive clouds. Bankers chuck torn blotches of timed herbal teas, rippling a raked incumbent riverboat to surfeit seascape corridor of scraping desert fauna scope to highball afternoon delight. Indelicate and surreptitious bean pods fall, encasing searing eyes in cornstalk bellow blasphemy above denuded claimant soup of wide-eyed watering bowls.

Perspiration forks deprive the sleepy eatery’s mainly sprung attendants of candied gerbil caricatures in time for justifiably correctable incursion glides, skimming the scudding ice cream clown parade with rocket glaze and escapade and sheer terrific two-steps, tossed to ballad czars in scarred piano majesty and people-governed travesties, a pink polluted flame. Gloved and perspectival plumes of raw industrial limbs emerge from nested husk of clear-cut corn row hyphenated siren buzz saw flyby.

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