May rains hail and thunder
all-in-one morning tucked up
Sophia fetches balm for the bundle
Observing unusual proprieties
following hors d’oeuvres
keep the kettle boiling
the nettle coiling
the aspidistra flying
keep the company of doves
brawling in the fountain
over scarce fuck all
intended for the starlings…
Wichita Lineman pitches up out of the blue Lacuna inquiring: Was you not once a carpfish plagued by crippling doubts about a distant golden age of innocence? Yes,I was once that Carpfish You confirm resonantly with disarming brevity quasi-presidentially semi-residentially taking it all in your jackboot crushing a face stride making cryptic hand signals in clipped bespoken cabalistic tongues Yes. I was that Carpfish: for old halibuts die hard go hang a sharp left at Cape Codology there bipolar dancing bears picnic out on melting strawberry ice floats on mustard wallowing in unabashed self-pity seconds before the bullet hit you in the forehead Trespassers will be Executed read the flashing pulsar over the black horizon
