Friday, April 21, 2017

will the earth use tradition-diction in startling ways?

 crazy fu-keets
 spread the moonlight
 b-tween themselves

 as each troll now it seems
 is some mystic woman
 sleeping beneath the bridge

 little bashos
 sleep in their sleeves
 bareley rustling
 kaze fukete

 their sleeze
 goes over us
 but who will play
 in an ornamental bridge

 these savory hands
 are entering
 a general
 rental television aroma
 epicacophaneities surround
 the bounding omphalo-coma

 i have no way of knowing
 if the next roadside inn
 will be a sound lodging
 or if delicate pyramids
 house trained insects
 to annoy travelers

 crazy fu-keets
 may slather themselves
 with the broken laws
 of the universe
 unconscious of the coming dawn

 dye creeps
 through the grain
 shaped like a diorama