they react to so many
klazy klemurs
i could no longer unify my being
as social protocool
Jim Beam entering Snooky Young
these pieces
how do they determine me
Fichte Fica
like totally lazy growth habit
mostrosa deliciosa
i imagine 60 points in the space called
ipoianymni a sphere in one life
a disk in another
if word a is an erotic solid
and word b an eroticracy
then cabal babal torloon virble
i see explosions of hot mud drifting upwards
and sucked through replicating green doors
door
shuffled like cards by invincible
visions
robotic totem pole torpedo
you gesticulate like a squirming turd;
Are you a word? A sword?
In the yard
telephone of brine
is milked
by the luminous blue starfish hands
molten steel nipple beards
how does point extrusion artifice
offer the fullest emotion
before its own window
all emotion is private
a contract
with contractees
we keep to ourselves
and our summerhouse
i really don't want to share the mood
of the music in the greenhouse
with anyone
or the day the crazy old man
showed up naked in the window
carrying a bush
how i locked him in
with the cave rabbits
who tend
the mother scorpion
his scream
is the sere white obelisk
whose deep bell-like tone
our far off President's shelter
with their womb-hand-green-houses
with squirming fingers
of robotic totem pole torpedos
image by Raymond Lemstra
