weathered long by deep ambiguity

blue teeth tug the face
of the little tug that could
redwoods in the quiet grove
of terrorists and then with bright
wand
stir the sparkling mud and voilà
the slightly distant head
is revealed staring from between
the statue's legs
just at the moment when the isle
becomes severed from the land
and the park is in upheavals
there is little english to do
in the picture of wollemia
but some of the bosoms
see in english
and have no other moods
besides the trite grunts
that they work into the
molecular holinesses
which lie lay ay eye nigh nay
way outside the picture
the jute and longbow
are thriving in newt arrivals
when words ivory a new mood
with pictures that arrive outside
of formal quantum hogons
there is much manna up its
chimney snifter
pug on an oriental rug
its little velvet top-hat steaming
but the wand hovers loosely
lossingly
over the swamp
oh cache'!
artifact for artefacte
these mud donkey salamanders
wheel and skinny
turning for the magic mountain
its tragic and beautiful sanitorium
overlooking the alps
has renewed its training
as a customs officer

tivoli gardens
analog
one might as well
terrine
for the queue


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