food of design

i don't know what dance the leaves take
from wooden shelves
as yet still tree
&joyously so, under saw's time
backstepping an hour here then there
for banker farmer plot puncher types
confusing even the mixing pots of colors
for the cottonwouldrather
&cede her of leb, anon,
downright dirtnap
spiraling flutter to the underbrush
sans wind, the slowly disengaging
remonstrance
                      multi-hued dragonskinflakes
                      spent their unfurled becomings
called springing not for nothing,
as calibrated
to niche-fill with sensors
feeding light, making food,
until sun daily
drifts less by solar thrust,
jetisoned plasma parts from the primary furnace
all detritus
in a scheme-ier grandiose farce
for floor feeds the feet of dancers
               leaping bruise machines
artfully
bespeckled, mauve blue ochre
&vermillion beard keeps coming over the moon,
between sunraises,
lop lop the ends are topped
caw caw day hour is not late,
if murk seems to take the sky
at four thirty things are known
in and of
portlandluck (takes cover to recover full light
mirror-clause.                            miracle,
actualized anomaly
devoid of instruction
inscrutable only in detail