fussing the silver brooch
of its face the spiragraphical
wobble how pendulums
find a stylus to scribble atop
their mushroom caps
documents a meander of the middlesome
where any
the film's gone pink
but the windowshades still hold
their paisley's own
dark grey bedroom
to house anything like large
nugget of turquoise set up
bust-like
and hanging from the wall
Bob Roger to hang her fake eyelash
like a moustache
in a cranny of gleefully goitered inkies
funny fangle of zigzag headband
funny fangle of an alcoholic's
aquamarine nose mess
dark grey
naked mornings
its single body
an oven of harmony
do you have any facial tattoos?
what is it on about that for?
Papuans? Ladies eyebrows, silly.
Oh.
purple
turret
staircases
up from country kitchens
into observatories
of shaggedout afrobustly ferns
a raccoon's tail
hung from the bullseye
of wonky cricket mandala
bluish and flayed pots
with crusts of tope crumbs
once continents for cheeky cacti phalli
empty glass boxes
of butterflies
a prairie dog skeleton
some hippie's painted with glitter
and flittied up with tawdry bits
tie-dyed alpaca
or somesuch
whose head is that
peeking out of the old fountain?
TONY!
