Monday, March 4, 2013

Surfing the Hurricane of Jesters

with its bright pang erected for copy,
but its root shorn by a pain
deeply disguised as playing

the ample shoof rejoins, for
what reflections cease to stir
is the quiet hubris of their own letter

that captive imbue, for what surroundings 
cam its briony fursen, and inksun
the tips?

And unda blow its clune and rowt tru,
or written on stairs in a list,

student the Cambrian shadows like a hiss

and snap out tour-de-force,
the dark emblem of its ornamental bondage,
its layer of speaking,
and forward-carnal-charnel,

Alois Riegl presenting a turned leg,
kunst swollen in computation

the Mixenes lavish

in careless sanguinitease

Oh Florida!

We bright Captains
pulse among the jesters

and toss our fate
into your churning name!