Saturday, April 15, 2017

tender realms of image

 (catiline + connie = colleen)
 [minus anapaestic]

 close by
 within the transparent molecule
 of its vast rhapsodic omening
 could we not be there then
 if we could win (the hampers, the beans and rouge)
 back our solemn impersonal (ribbed
 for her majesty's secret service)
 personification of geometry (his not so special secret form)
 forum, the senators or even foam-cry members
 of the lurid old neovinium or ack-ack foam
 like asterisk spiders of human arms
 with a single cyclopian mouth anus eye ear
 to string them like beads on a yarn
 in which the actual complexity of the event
 or the actual complexity of the assemblages
 contained in the event was not lost
 to those who would have clarity
 beyond this stifling wound mobile
 close by
 it's very close now
 Guinevere is twin pink dog noses to your eyes
 the speaking with lips
 that could be towering vinyl
 housing rows of sleeping manatees
 their long fu manchu mustaches
 scribbling sleeptalkers sleeptalkers
 geef whut your wheel
 non-coral ordu ford you
 things have disappeared before
 but the halo of trees discerns
 it is close by
 within the transparent molecule
 where all of you are slaves
 within the knowledge of being
 that vast rhapsody
 could we not be there then
 the aqua colored emotion
 the sapphic poem to a mad teacher