.

storm-cloud

petulent apricot

stubborn

loving

everyone pokes their own eyes out

this meat is lousy

the gift of love is not yellow turpentine by a brother field

or rickshaw effigy, burnt by breakfast singlet

a sandwich waits for the coalminer drunk on hippo-love, lick-a-face-a-dog-love

whispery whiskers, south decorum

but this thing with no legs is walking towards us

a sunlit meadow, a hollow transparent tube of an eggplant hallway

surounds us like a vast fingertip

the interogator's jackboot has smoked a human cigarette

the lake of intrepid binoculars

suppply the gasoline, the gas pump, the green and panting ribbon you are not reading about in your mother's large, repulsive head, for it hangs from a turret

this laughing soldier-boy, pizza delivery, and the clean pressed sheets

of an afternoon stroll

through a triangular-shaped ear

a pear tree, a pear tree where summer waits patient

stretching and licking the snow from winter's charlie chaplin, his hedge-row eyes

surround that tiny village

where the wedding-guests merge into one maypole

delirious & neglected

sliding down the glass ropes of a thrift-store ballerina

a handshake with the future is a silent promise

a rocking chair

a rocking chair the size of camoflague

a poppy, with its tongue hanging out

ancient inkspot.... unbuckles sleep

& the carton-wheeled theater-seats melt like confetti

we have been bird-watching............

tentative, and glamorous

we could have been animals

v