Sunday, January 2, 2011

They were furry green icons.

It is odd that my first poem
was a kind of bemused inspection
of the memory of the green flying apes
of Oz.

What is  the “watershed of whatever”?
What is the moral, the "obviously", of
The Patchwork Girl of L. Frank Zaum?

That shaggy man needs love magnet?

Heavy druid gift could be full body coconut
w/ sky colored milk.

gift? Eigengift.
Madeleine takes down the crescent
from her head, and looks up and down
deft and rite, befor eth


hand passing straight through the monocles
hand passing through the domain
as lens-cycle to summon
its accelerating and spherical flower
circulatingly among
the celf

the large gong stairs
and stiff tire grommets
to subtle the painted constellation's
hap or bah

drilling down
into the infinite earth
the hollow part to break open
the tomb of the abstract
its merry weird humanoid fungus people
now walking in the turning light
their skins
of wild painting

the Romans knew them
from Etruscan stories as

Careless Children
leaving colored galactic bridge hands
in sugar, and revelry

or meaty the impellor sound
amidst such representational jug heads
sucking slurry into a system

wont and wonk
to taonkon lo:

birds sweetly enter
the greeny hollow metal monkey face  

the stuffing an
the old yellow cardigan
and its cameras covered with stamps
of rum balloons.