Monday, December 1, 2008

Ethereal Beauty #30

I've banished myself to the engine room
And need a pikestaff to catch toilet crabs
In this claustrophobic murky makeshift.

Some amour-antagonist would, no doubt,
Rejig a mod castellated galleass
Busted out of a child’s milk bottle
To set screaming over the warped poop boards.

Viscid insider of Lord’s domination
With a metal plate head full of screws
(Screw off, breaching ghosts), I’ll snort Visine Plus
Up my finger-tested left nostril

And see cilia up close and personal
Hula-hip-hullabaloo, frond fracas,
Plankton bow over the bow (wow! wow!),
Avoiding the cresting warship prominent

As a black thumbprint on the tessellated
Horizon. I cannonball, jettisoning
Foul flotsam of flabby verse into the wake,
Munching bean crullers as I descend.

O bloated spleen! Forward! Anchor rheum. Bones
Of the neglected strike like blind tappets
In camshafts crapping out in engine bowels below.
Gulls slice in gusts like varicose-veined scribbles.

Tarry me away, bared memories, I love something.
Some …. tends her autumnal shrubs. I’m such a schlub
For neglecting feelings of others, so
Many missed poems, brevity of a lyric

Encrusting its strange code, ho!, but not for me
Because it’s a dead-white-man’s game I was never
Invited to join. They know my genius,
I’d have them genuflect like oil rig heads

Pecking earth’s cinders, but this international
Surf divvies me up in apportioned tears.
Warden invisible, I’m lost and must
Needs flush my six thousandth verse down this metal

Toilet brig. Seasick I glide over my past.

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