Saturday, November 16, 2013

Dayglo Carny

Dew conceals the dayglo carny.
Like germs, in the tombstone’s blinking of sharpish tissues.
‘Nice germ lance,’ Ernie says,  
Re its alloy’s neighborly spasm
Amidst zero-gravity tendon-despair.
You’re a sickening shoplifter, she says.
Framed in falling soil.
Chipmunk ribs are numbers:
They reverse cowgirl nightmarish wheelbarrows.
The veneer’s slight gradient’s smell of wet wool,
nacho cheese gleaming,  
a dopamine pustule but full of water,
the rattling chunk of implanted gum,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Search This Blog

There was an error in this gadget