Rhythmia
Ventriloquists live in lighthouses,
gargle and joke. Voices surf,
redden and haberdash. Novelists ride
shadow boats, cave and inkswell. Tongues
pull deeper into craters, tumble and muscle. Subconscious lotus blossoms hafla to live music, hoop and ignite. Cries catch in the throats of deepsea beasts, cradle and
fall. Coupons doze in mailboxes, sliver
and waste. Appliances suffer
traumatic stress, polish and hum.
Books shiver in their spines, tale and morph. Surfers hump rip curl, sexwax and comb. Glass rims touch lips, un-sober and
versify. Throats unify outcry,
swallow and democratize. Guts
wretch martyrs, bribe and pray. Soldiers
suckle kava root, dictate and undress.
The wine-men promise wireless grapes, toast and embalm. Barmaids pour lips into skinny jeans,
publish and snuggle. The Regime
orders all voices imprisoned, writhe and rhyme. Neighbors throw digital block parties, sigh and seek. Pronouns become verbs, she mes him. Sages play Mahjong in palm groves, shuffle and tile. Teachers promise rose gardens, who versus whom. World leaders guard fish tanks, confer
and becalm. Bankers wear
spacesuits, cheap thrills and escape.
Attorneys make beds, bottles and ankle bells. Babies have second thoughts, neverdust and waterbirth. Cows get mastitis, Rose of Sharon and
Janet Jackson. The banyan tree
laughs, earthen and worship.
Gasoline excites us, chant and gauge. Poems make sense, please and desist.
(After Sina Queyras)
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