Lost and Found
The precipitous day drools on
yellow and slightly rancid, buttressed in buttery light
by a gray glazed glint from the Pacific.
Vertical skeletons of flesh and concrete bob
with a hallucinatory air,
some freshly coiffed and others surfaced
with the scar tissue of ages.
Halloween gone wild every mid-day,
minds of the plagiarist hordes
flesh-out the canvass with a living art, Pollack would adore.
Grunge sheik cements the souls
dressed radically with sentimental holes
escaped and escaping from
their conventional mold.
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