poem: cosmetic blue down
big baleful bowl of brown-eyed salary
the kiss and tell mythic edges
singeing the palisades
selkie cliffs skimming
by the missing riddles
i keep my sensible fashions
closeted,
diverticular asymmetries, castaway
chops in the regal latitudes
velvet horn in your ear
can turn a phrase faster
than the fishy cheesy
presence in the Eyes of gods
down the Basse bus stops
filigreed digitation, if you
were asking the fools
to the right and left
you'd feel the evidence
rising
the situation settled out
& striped through
the compound vagaries
the distal cheeseheads
the cosmetic blue
down your bedroom lanes
& you might ask
& you might tell
but the general's widow
has vaguer plans afoot
& she's halfway up
your juicy dissertations
inside out
becomes the only way
to bring it back
to sing a furry tune
a sizing merrily forgot
tell me one more time
is the lissome true
imperil me with a glistening
truth
cash me in and skip
on down
your merry road.
Labels: salaried piffle
posted by murat11 at 10:40 PM
3 Comments:
Maybe it's just the way this one fell in the middle, between purple shoes/blue railing and the wonderful Miss Riddle, but this felt like a mighty zippy poem, despite that "baleful bowl of brown-eyed salary."
Loved the lines "& you might ask/ & you might tell/ but the general's widow / has vaguer plans afoot." A lively dance, and lots of fun, even if you do get left standing in the dust at the close.
sometimes your poetry train goes so fast I have to put on the brakes. I want to see the details in scenery and you can turn a phrase faster than those fishy cheesy filigreed fingers can move across the keyboard or my eyes can move across the screen.
Love that first line though I have a small bowl...very small.
I like furry tune and glistening truth - textures and sounds abound. I hope your school year has gotten off to a merry start.
Dee: What a lazy janitor I've become over here. Time to open the windows, let in some fresh (wait, it's 110 degrees outside!) . . . okay, time to turn out the lights, turn down the A/C, take a cool bath. You are always welcome to turn the power off on these poems, as you well know. Put them on hamster-drive, rubber bands, set the 78 rpm down to 33.
School's moving along wonderfully; wishing you a wonderful year, too.
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