Where the groundhog has chewed the chain link
I slip through a brittle-boned hedge, and I am there
where geese sail a puddle-deep fog.
We taste the sea in its brine-washed ripples
splash through its salty clouds. Ohio rides on
oceanic currents, the Atlantic gets swept up
on gull wings, surf drifts West for miles,
then flops down and paddles deeper.
The sky has startled fisheyes in it; between the
soggy woods, aquatic scales slide and gleam.
Long-winded showers shatter where mermaids
chase, plunging on through dazed turnpikes,
or pausing to comb their wavy hair at windswept
rest-stops along Interstate I.75.
Cats go out then cry to come in.
A runt-end of shade wilts.
We feel the pull of a Lunar tide,
sense the off-center mewing,
of a dissonant aria.
Trembling dogs hide their body-bones.
The air is strained through fisheyes.
A clammy light gnaws,
while white-faced mice scurry
on twilit paws.
There will be an end of sorts,
a draining away. First, there must be,
this ailing after-glow,
an infiltration that wounds
the tender skin of reason.
A mad moon had broken lose,
from the cellular jails of fitful thoughts.
A dead Siren rampaged,
in a cold rage of silence.
The day may heal, a new dawn,
defeating all spectral trails,
all night-walking fears.
Until then we must watch
a pall-bearing dusk
depart on crumbling stilts,
observe from a dwindling distance,
a naked crone wanes,
turns in ever narrowing circles,
as she seeks for her life.
interesting
the girl has red hair
she is around 200 pounds
she dances well
people throw coins
into a violin case
no violin
there are pidgins on the pavement
they are also dancing
between the hurrying legs
The girl is an angel
I know these things
gut response things
reflected everywhere
glass me
moves in dozens of directions
the red head
follows my window forms
Interesting
skimming under thin ice
from underneath
i have no head
but the hat is very smartly placed
dancing particles are named
only when they join
even when the street has no name
the cold weather has dead-fisheyes
sex talk overhears itself
interesting
naked slippers walk quietly into the light
a red face melts on its own hot breath
fat girl stops dancing
winks at my thin lips
the thin coat and thinly disguised admiration
only my ankles are swollen
interesting
Where the groundhog has chewed the chain link
I slip through a brittle-boned hedge
and I am there where geese sail
a puddle-deep fog.
I taste the sea in its brine-washed ripples.
Ohio spates with oceanic currents,
the Atlantic gets swept up on gull wings
surf pours West for hundreds of high miles,
then flops and pools.
The sky has fisheyes in it.
Between the blight-broken woods
aquatic scales skim, gleam
and blink over surface waters.
Long-winded showers shatter to spray,
clouds drip mist-drowned sea air's
upon a mirage of mermaids
that chase to catch them on the fly
as they plunge on
through the sodden turnpikes,
or pause to comb their sing-song hair
at the wind-swept rest stops
along Interstate 75.
~~~~~~~~~
edit
Lake Léman must float
the weight of the city –
Its grey stolid affluence
needs hydraulic help.
Our paddle steamer chuffs
beyond the tall fountain.
For a while, grand houses
bob beside us.
In Geneva the poor must fit between
the opulence.
Up ahead, Mont Blanc,
and other Wagnerian massifs,
begin to shrink us into fisheyes.
Then sunlight spills its sky
into the deep waters.
Suddenly we are afloat on mountaintops!
I could be almost happy here
if we were not just renting this moment.
When we return to the city
the sky will be gray once more,
the poor will still be poor.
Outside the stylish patisseries,
sparrows will still fight for crumbs.
Eyeball soup. Wonderfully tasting.
Deliciously made, sweet and pasty.
Cinnamon-seasoned, also some thyme.
Vegetable laden, scrumptious and fine.
Fisheyes are best, but goats are good too.
Nothing sooths me like warm eyeball soup.
Sit me here without merriment have I
Me teacher to I say
Ascertain this thing called Pi
Be fuddled be fluxed be fizzled
Me brain light just dies.
Stand me here what lavish leading tones sings I
Me teacher to I say
Sing the words-vocalize
Loudly Laudably Laughingly
Me soul un lamentably does rise.
Saturated me-self in what knowledge have I
Me teacher to I say
Graduate this day and be baptized
Apprized with fisheyes
Me soul doth now say banzai
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