Glue Horse Charities and Bombs of Milk

vast limoges, is your blur of odalisque concatenati
giving handle, giving quickened breath?

when i enter your porcelain navels to sleep
in secret basins of warm milk, I find such
long haired frog-shoes.

golum in the navel caves of limoges
is johnny winter

who plays his old albino guitar
on a salamander of china white heroin
whose ribs of transparent crystal
seem as blue as proust's paper-thin head

many frail asmat
live in the limoges area

their white afros begin like columns
but have no capitals

in a hiss of salamanders of milk
i drift off to sleep
in a freakish mountain of limogesodalisque
concatenati

johnny winter
is a bird's nest of snowflakes
in my navel