an acrylic de ja vue
one time too many once again
as bitter as an onion in a stew.
I have spent my day in a gooseberry bush
a vegetable of whiplash serving supper to the crows.
my nemesis the downfall of a corrugated box
through careless roots with a sundial for a friend;
there I sat and watched the playful run
dancing with the ducks on a scythe of stars
spitting love through a goldfish bowl
less tropical more languid
now at an age when just to think it still
in horse and harmony assured
with news of Cleopatra trading insults with my wood;
an obligatory smile from the dead of night.
the slight-of-hand of those who cannot die.
it is Mary\'s Song through the windows to the gold
singing only for my supper rich-deserved;
to the food of words I eat
sucking butter from the backdrop of a spoon
I am a cereal killer of all who crave milk.
bark with me; bark at the moon;