My mound is tickled by a politics of vanity - furrily

The tongues wag    I shouldnt wonder the way

You are behaving in an unusually distracted dazed or wild manner

As if affected by the moon    Blue impulses are abroad    Lets go

Skinnydipping    But then life had already sneaked away

With the power to dapple    From a dance so decorous

No flatfooted adjective could have failed

To do it justice    Then i guess it is home to dispose of

Fleas in the candles blaze    Perhaps some other day

On the lake or lagoon we will panic suddenly

In expectation of a world forever altered

Upon the shore    BACK IN A FLASH

Read the note discovered only many years thence    Why

We are not rotten is beyond us    No

It is behind    Discharging a stream

Of burning liquid    He snoozes in his notebook

Hence the graphite smudges on his cheek & temple    In his dream

                                                         of cavernous acclaim

A bottle bobbed by

Energetically stopped with an outsized cork    One

Prodigious pop later & he was mulling over the “content”

Of some “message”    Dear barky

Leave those ducks alone theres a good boy    As for

The rest of you    Be advised that i shall refuse

To be recognized in any afterlife    And if i can assist

In any way dont bank on it    Your friend in theory

Martin c    Ps looking forward to the fire

At both disembodied ends    Who never heard his own piteous moaning

From a far flung corner of the realm    By inches obsolescing

Posted on Tuesday, February 27th, 2007 at 10:55 pm
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