Monday, February 7, 2011

Bumptious Echoy

its krater were fuzzy and green
at the behest of a swarm of
my shinys

mother at the window
in jeans
looking dawn
where the candle

its krater
its krater

were a sieve

and had a home as its base
would snap to a wheel
and the wheel would spin
and the krater did too

flinging momentary jelly letters
into memory

these two historical models
are close
pictorialism rushing
abut the but, but do

consider wild weeds
frozen as ceiling the surface from
below the stream

and green kraters spinning through
as elevators, or shoes

if all of the instrumental
were a green and eloquent

no mustys
no faustys
my shinys have a home

inside the glass filigree bulb house
whose positive pressure creates complex
bubble windows on the surface

as it glides down strong smooth silent galleries
of wild tangles of leaf thin colonnades

we are sitting there happy
and big headed
waiting for our grools
at the golden