Wednesday, May 27, 2015

louche herd species



bleak my steak I suppose while I forage coal
to think these reflections of ferns reach back into the forest
to a distance of eighty miles
and that one long steak-like meandering divan would
mention their serpentine grays
how to meet the minders
when their king is bled out
like camphor from a brass larynx
but that hallways can still be formed anywhere
with a palette of full-length mirrors
and the great all-host of lumber
gone to lathering around the plum-bob
with a gum-shoe more peacock than Harry
but hauled up from the very bottom
of the Ortobalagan sponge
with no place to go
but the phreatic attic free
of all critical associations
to burden the hoof
you see its lava cowboys irking their lightning
into the confused clouds and crowds
and things all of it rhymes
in some way or another
like tephra from Hekla