Friday, August 12, 2016

Eleven Bombs in One Day

Sometimes, words
in a stadium. Sometimes
left wants right
in a pressure
situation. You
poets know what I
mean. A piano ascends
the gracious leavening of human
what the fuck. A guitar can do the
same smart-alecky. Which town
do you wonder? Ambient flakes
of creativity flutter
like impulsive dynamo abreast
human level. Explain
Donald Trump, plain
vireo. You are
virginal, with conceit. You
have seen nothing
virtuously. Donald Trump
arouses the
sentient stone. The stone says,
“Stone”, “a” Mutter
makes cream
of wheat
a livelier nation.

No comments: