a braille of ashes enters its filet of filter cheek horns

cold close
coulomb your
black tone
refracted
steadily molar
rally tongues relax
inside the
spectator heads clear
discs of
colored worms or
rally officials
seem stringy &
defrosted

we pass into their
bodies our rotator cuffs
luminous beneathe
the layers of skin
and spectators

elastic windshield heads
are jettisoned
cubits of magma vacuum
enact a waveguide's
brujo (butter lampreys carved into hovering gates
resplendent with agates and grates)

my nerves
are in grapes
the rally officials
are geysers of plastic birdbones
dressed in their crisp
stentorian names

and up above
the fates are weird and vicious
precise and tender

light like foam and putti
on
moon-panted radar puppetry

their loom maws and telescoping bobbin teeth
like elastic typewriters whose keys are shot-glasses of
turbulent nipple mantas, stainless steel gazelle gondolas
their momentary rows of flashing dynamic appendages

nunc
pause
nunc

noon-chaku

seem as quaint and pale
and
grey
like a head and shoulders
balloon clinic strap-on

Jack Palance's head hovering
as the Caesar of Dakar

girl motorcycle leathers
puffed up
with jellybean look-alike
memory styx