Friday, June 11, 2010

Mopar Alte Uhr

Its string must mud-bush sugar wane,
the turning vane, its hollow path~
angorada-mere to swap-hope:

Naoiiaaahihao, the thin
gin sheet hovers, tiny
juniper berry growlems enact
a blue masqued icon
for slang:

Buttock boats
can give a play
from backs
to omniscients'
cobra spoons~

in the audience

give onto to caviar

all one sees

balloon blunderbusses
stretched out
from tinkly foreheads

leaf masks
with eyeholes covered
in transparent lens beetles
which produce the text

of the play
in the segments
of their abdomen

its string is tingling
strange is the string growing wings
its day
still lingering

or notwich
thathangs from a single dorsal wing
bisecting the cranium thing

it's like i'd see
that bodiless chattering head
using the banister of the long sweet ascendant
as a monorail

consciuncle to

Aunt Disney
as a young man
trapped in the workshop
of the black forest clock maker

wearing a green leather
speak any? easy?

yoff hon jibu!

A baker with an icing mustache


No comments:

Post a Comment

Irrony Observes The Earthing.