Saturday, 23 January 2016


A word is worth a thousand pictures
if carved in a knot of magnolia bark
by covalent lovers 'midst the mist
of fog-less farts from man's machines;
and foxes wield mechanisms of defense
in unveiled wooly sports-coats worn
by and by the prophet in shattered carafes 
polished into a frozen lake of mercury;
and Ribble slides to and fro, catching gnats,
sprouting seedless sunflower tender-loins
torn away from sow-less lantern skies
obscuring the pupil black curtain far behind;
and when a blind man trips on fingered feet
dampened in salty dew and mucous fun,
he sees that silence makes those who weep
hear the sobs from echoes' rain-dropped keys
up onto the eminent brows 'n' ridge furrowed furred:
a promontory for truck-driving fleets of crippled use
to warehouses bustling with oily nails and meat;
and vowels tesselate to Persian patterns
seamlessly collected by some suspecting eyes
surprised mid surpluses of decanted meaning
that floats on by like fiery birthday blimps
manned by a trillion cells named Giuseppe;
but what factory made the first factory?
and whose name formed itself first?
by the letter-less alphabet comprised of grunts?
These questions sit ashamed in the corner
wearing still a pointed cap quoting "dunce;"
and so the shell with the infected pistachio nut
cracks open inexplicably and decides
to grow into a salamander's spot–a maze–
constructed by invisible web-coasts called mind.

No comments:

Post a Comment