Wednesday, April 30, 2014


or it’s tons o’ swordlike trills
taupe in the croode, thin
nether-fops loose like raining
Pleiades-- peace hath a recombinant
bather’s embraced pillage--
in the repentant empire
in the unguzzled longtemps
in the resonant tri-fed tout
-- plasticized & patient
mores clang in the capable
folk-- they are war &
win the time like lice like
shown aboard they would
signal the
Beads of concepts & choke
               the suns a part