poem for January 9 not my new future The fractal twists of nature
give way to helixes
made of miters and rhomboids,
cool futuristic efficient. Mice and ants
just roving boxes with legs,
and birds no color at all
but transparent angle wind,
their scattered remains
pin-pricked and encased
under beveled glass. Can you imagine this place
wrapped in parallel cellophane,
tied with cut diamond ribbon? I can’t find a curve outside
the salt water trail
from cheek to thigh. The easy crescent of my mother
winks from a rectangular mirror.
New future, not my problem. Link and efficiency, and quality-shaped, mentioning
the United States to the angle of rotation The color of the slice darning needle scattered thorn rat and back to the bridge and put the glass, the angle of
the bevel needle is prescribed. Parallel glass and ribbon-cutting of the stone, can you imagine? Halite only in the thigh, the curve of the cheek, I can not find the way. wave of affinity best single new long-shot.
today my heart felt automated and I wanted to turn the switch to rumor or runner or mermaid, anything but murmur