My Five-Five-Fingers

I My five-five-fingers of my hands Zestfully lived In serenity. The three thrill fingers of my right hand: Thumb, index finger and middle finger Stoutly lived civilly and gleefully Amongst her BROTHERS: They rested gleefully upon the placid, SHARP-SABLE-POINTED-DART. II Sharp-sable-pointed-dart; Perched in the midst of the three thrill fingers And laid rest upon the hungry, Virgin DUSKY-SHEET, which sprawled Bear flat on the glossy desk. The glossy desk accompanying the earth The earth accompanying its depth. III The other two fingers of my right hand: Ring finger and little finger Calmly leisure, plopped on the hungry, virgin dusky-sheet And lent ears to the sharp-sable-pointed-dart, Sharp-sable-pointed-dart, Muttering vignettes of yesterday Muttering vignettes of today Muttering vegnettes of tomorrow. Upon the glossy desk My five fingers of my left hand too Laid rest, and eyeballed the sharp-sable-pointed-dart, Muttering deep thoughts. IV Look, All you who waded through lines: All you who unearth the heart Of this earth, hunting for treasures Pore over my ten fingers. My ten fingers, As pure as a full virgin moon. I have dunked deep my five fingers Of my right hand with my progenitors In a bowl of sweet dishes And nibbled singed YAMS amidst The thriving vegetables. V But my forefinger of my left hand Never been raised above To curse the heavens Never been raised up to pinpoint My progenitors' homeland Never had it tasted any depravity And never will it be licked Or bit by the savage butchers of Meat Who loved to fatten themselves on murder And gratified their heart with Juicy cup of blood and gore. © Martins Tomisin 2016