Happy To See Me Go!

Six mo' бухло to go
and I'm twombly for the road, alienatal
down in old Santa Maria town,
head of a bull-fighting dog,
dodo bird and academy, a thing
of hairless wonder, like a molten glass icon
hovering in its own heat, wide as syn,
tall as dys, and bold as Axum.

Three times I came to you, purple
Barney of the goldenrod, and three
times you turned me back, now
whatever swanks your model
of this tub can't be a metaforce,
the wlat thorns the hirelang ofligge,
and heaven's dome a sponge
for question hooks. Ten spits
in a kukus to kulai, the character
'pu', just for you.

I'll take it in the big chair, sittin'
down, head in hands like a rustler',
heiress carburetor deflopped,
suicide note on an old Amazon
gift card, thrift store Bermudas
tied in a tangle of flax and bugs.
Raunchy, cold thrill of lines
escaping into the bald ether,
unda numbers 234, 212, 89,
the soft Belgian tundra,
that Portuguese carriage
museum I took in with
Nana in her wild Slavonia.