circles & squares or perfect dots on a blank white sheet
during the drought a storm cloud
turned green & dropped
a mean coconut killing a ken doll
in the process his beautiful arms
I took off & painted aqua mailed
to my congressman with a manila sticky
which in other languages says
crawl back into your lazy
fucking hole
with your broken teeth
plus some exposed negatives
dipped in extra conditions
which some embalmed genius
made immune from all Cartesians
& their Archimedean points but only small parts
of the brain resemble a tabula rasa
henceforth there is an infinite regress

Now read this

Sonnet in which Angels Do Not Age, Neither Do Clouds

A folk tale of rook-pecked corpses and rusty bicycles For which the pink elastic strings of the fable’s bikini Has been washed too many times Like laying A flaming palm branch of donkey shit at your door After S– stood you up twice for... Continue →