Tuesday, December 29, 2020

a briar rose city amid the horses bones

hoof shoof hoof
told no tails to
the watery beings whose
woose thoose to
inhabited the raku-
fired earring cities
their wonderful clothes
like al dente scented
opera pasta pale
purple pasta buckles
to hold a gelatin general
of singing and miniature
slug telephone people
delicately clothed
in scented pasta
you could build an alpine arch
from the dangling sunshine of an earlobe
you could found a dynasty
in the creamy erotics of a paste
why is there no sensitivity to materials
and grace in the construction
of the brutal iron bead cities
each bead a prison city
which hangs from its own
mustache braid
around the terrible maw
the terrible worthless maw
of the mumbling
of the possibilities
of the wonders
of intelligence
a hoof for the sparkle
of vision
a warm golden handle
finding an orphan
to comfort
in the endless
of blindness
here i saw a crane glide through
a complicated archway
of sculpted moon paste webbing

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Irrony Observes The Earthing.