‘I, Marionette… Walk me thru a mummery to the guillotine… ‘It’s a bit wooden; should we use a trampoline…’ Ms Dubb…’& one net’ Otto is too hot, eyes a newt so not surprise tree frogs in a vine
Category Archives: Poetry
Costume Via Catalog
Bibi’s one sarong Otto’s XL mu-mus ‘Not quite right…’, Ms Dubb in gold gabardine disapproves the damascene, this lay btw OK in a coop & atop a topograph, not the quiet type
Systrum
For the old cargo, two halves a remember’d ship, nothing in the hull as braids the camel’s back with sacks, a city more the way there convey ’til a softness flows, the hoofprints, the caravans ‘thru the wide sands home
My North
‘Its good you’re going this way to the blue valley on the horizon…’ Slow clouds cover that the other wood’d know, so small a feature, ‘tho the farther reach was always fair before us, we wait to pre-pair
Peregrination
‘tho a guitarist can knot a cat’s-got-a-tongu’d aglet on crew sock’d hiking boots and chew all it wants, to pick a tune, better yet declaw a piton mountain & look out a cool crevasse, the crooks echoic