posted March 07, 2009 11:01 PM         

Creative clocks will chime in sonorous alarm
As you behest your maker for a clock that chimes quicker than a cotyledon crackling
through the undergrowth of majestic
sempervirens trojans

Clastic outcrops potentially dangerous
to foot sore pilgrims,
make your contention known
Clear your locked range and billow dust
in crashing sedimentary discharge
Belated glaring images in photonic displays
will not suffice
Crumble and make a potential chaos to alleviate the threat of costly damage.

O beveled, I'm sure, but create nothing
from shiny template that denies
your partaking in primal sibillation.
Sack cloth and overlays of hessian
will closet your craft of perforated bright charter

Put them on a sheltered sill and wisely
pull the shutters to a crossed latch.
Your cameo will clear itself in the chill
of midnight shatter.

Fervent travail will make nothing for the Sunday dawn
if festering backlog of spitting indecision
and mercantile ballast are pushed down under
the ribs of the great colus
Proof in pater prompting
will obliterate the need for general spasm
The mock scene will be billed
but the hierarchy of cold-hearted puritans
will not caper, will not resolve with you
your indivisible fundus.

O my charlatan lord, evoke not a grim reaper
to barrage me and put holes in my bravery.
Sorcerer take a look at your loved one
He has nothing to assent to that does not
require an acquisition of too lightly
dealt stasis.

Wrong hamper, take a cold leg of pork and prevent it from turning by rubbing it with vinegar and salt, do it now and you will be fed when winter comes.
Your mirage of olio on lawns in Babylonian
gardens is closer to true speared insight
than you would have realized but alas
the lock is on it for any further inquiry.

There won't be any loud guffawing
The manner in which the reverberating bean shaker will make itself known
is through a keyhole to a westwind door
locked twice for good measure and
not locatable easily by prying eyes.

The german jovan, has no richer meaning
than you can give on your own.
So put your pennies back in your pouch
It won't hurt to spend them on icecream
and feed crackers to the birds as you
walk through crowded local turf and
constructed play retreats for children
of separated parents and of mothers
needing fresh air instead of drab close
air in concrete columns where they live.

Expire not, I love lots of things
There are no chocolatines waiting for your
wonderous psalms, you will need more
spritely minds than that to arrest
your raging search for a token cast
of ophelia's gaze

Sap your rage, I am not an aggressor
Take a closed fist of husked semolina
and mention nothing while you swirl it
tentatively in a pot of boiling water.
Your brow will moisten but you will have
plenty to absorb your heated sorries
once you spoon the porridge and eat.