musik for lions and squares

deaf lion--

can't hear the musik
through the trees,

the oodles, noodles; the c**k caw
of Mother Dark

sparking Tuesday into Wednesday.
playwithplastik phone
dial(ogue)ing number to home.

"yes",
"yes"
"yes"...hmmm,

deliver us from evil...no, sorry, pizza.
deliver us some pizza.

i have seen yesterday in the restive hands of
an old lady; we think she is meaningful; she is.
hurts my heart, you know, all that cheese, bacon,
tomato...mmm, i tipped the driver.

20 cents. my pocket, owwww, it screams

[oh dee dab dee da, la]
s'pose that's what i get for being generic,
convers(ationally):
"yeah, dude".
hidey hidey ho.
shouldn't shouldn't go.
down
on a
nun.
goggle eyez'd get angry spit out the spoon.
and,
jimmy jones, bless his soul, us and them--
but him, he's still looking for a razor for the
forest on his face,
whispers, tinkles; musik.
melody streaming from the buzz of flowers,
bees circling the sun, river weeps on the piano's
porch. i dream this dream through the everglades,
the circles on the stump, the rings, the oak and
eucalypt. i seem to think, but not. caught in nature;
4:4.

feel the knock on my door--
enters song, gaily strides in, shining a thousand faces...
and i am here, so deftly rapt. attent. And every breeze
is worth a kiss.

Author's Note

...the formatting is all screwed up. like my brain.