Whispers into Spring
[ 1 ]
Calendrics easily matriculate between teen thoroughbreds until
The guardians re-hesitate to speak known gospel to the rank and philosophs.
[ 2 ]
Dark detention ambles all through bye week after brothalized
Detachment after all the mood shirts have been bristled out of rain.
[ 3 ]
What is delirium if not a pause from which the new bears are pulled
From the sleep of pure perfection, mirroring who I was last night to you.
[ 4 ]
Brotherly happiness becomes a sport of long held separation
Thrall, to wit, akimbo jouissance made sparingly alive, alert, inflammatory.
[ 5 ]
Alone time whittles the infection gram of an idea into something spoken
Fluently across the continent straight through to other land masses.
[ 6 ]
Plurality has gusto, and our mood becomes convivial again, apart from
Vivian's, a wheeled-along young opus halfway in a trance, bewilderingly spry.
[ 7 ]
Norms matter to some homeowners; others want to hang sheets
Of all colors on the lamp to form some shade to keep the light apart.
[ 8 ]
Cease and detox, my little winter crazy, by my trolley for the Easter
Dapper days, cry to the outfielder we lie when we most speak the truth.
[ 9 ]
"How large now is Fred?" was asked of the assigned walk-master
Of the tortoise with the notice of the herd and heaping plots of joy.
[ 10 ]
No question's really answered anymore; people just show what they might do
If anything could come to resolution, then all hell would break the noose.
[ 11 ]
Consonants in general have not been allocated to the persons who most need them;
One still hears the vowels spill over onto fence posts and facilitate the drowning.
[ 12 ]
Point-click means to recover specificity when no timetable has been injected
Into anyone as yet; control just out of reach appears deceptively attainable.
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