December 31, 2011



As they Flow in your onion skin Italian books
Dream mists and half askance stares

Lines thick with moments brushed against your lips
Shades of moons left in brown mustard jars

The pens pin so many possibilities
Point by point by point

Capture the advent
With your whorls


In Dimension 4692
we are ruled by brown corduroy
which sits on its metal throne
handing out decrees
by the fistful
constantly on guard
worried about a coup
from within
armed with pinking shears
and hot ideas
long the days
they have reigned


Take each of the pens
Cobble out the history of time

With each new onion skin
Fill Italian books with a new understanding

Break down the hold of brown corduroy
Break down the hot ideas of rebellion

Turn each moment into mist
With your whorls


In Dimension 4692
Like silk worms embraced
we leave our effluvium
interwoven with the mist
forming a new fabric
upon which to draw
new moments of ecstasy
formulating new rule
in which Adam and Eve
feast on the flesh of the brown snake
seasoned slightly
with the pale scent of the apple.

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