Said Pan To Myme

if its spider
would mother apartments
or tame the hollow ilk
of clean walls

our tatami prefect
noticed how deglazing
tuna miso
enters rice
held

holy stars
in a trinket maze blanket
or coming lightly in the rain
such nearly transparent bambooi
to parent a lace-gilled salamander bottle's
innocent pause

as if buddha could only live
trapped in a tiny cell
half submerged in green tea

horns screw off
revealing pocket watches
at the temples
that vibrate
or flex inward

dark blue cave of skull
dark blue velvet skeleton

those nudes
inside a grasshopper's
jade head

pause before the cavern of silverware
and take out across
the thin lumpy corruption
of its thinking
its gurgle
or "thought"

no good treat
but treatmeants

or staglia
comme
oblinarche'