My ears are little jewels, they cannot be unverned
Set in my fragile band of golden skull,
I work from home much like you there above my shoes
Juggling mama Hubbard's sophist brood of China plate bull,
A narrative with loosey form, manipulation the norm
Rockwell wall around my castle,
O dragon bestomping his fiddle in my omnipresent auricles
Not just 24-7 but in extra dimensions
Can't you now do whatever I wish upon a star,
Cricket decinstructing his Appalachian sitar,
Blonde or not I'll cry to the swat, batting my young lids, welling
Pity at past noon for the nautilus typhoon
It's not stormy just soggy with octopi flailings,
Thorman brings down that hammer, laced in horsehair whip
The cinder blocks liquify, perhaps too autistic to emerge from pillow bunker
Fragile on purpose it's not just hearing,
She'll shell away anything that pecks apart clouds nearing.
No comments:
Post a Comment