bee 2

 

 

 

 

   My beliefs

   are silly, a gardens

   corrade, an abrasive

   salt-lick

   for the braggart

   brown squirrel's

   wild and frenzied

   dancing to your

   demise.

 

 

   Even when the sky

   fills with squealy

   birds (they will

   eat you, you know,

   and cast you out

   of their behinds

   with droppings on

   my roof),

   I happen thru.

   Since this is

   Thursday me and the

   mantis held a prayer

   breakfast and prayed

   a dolphins truth.

 

 

   My proclaim:

                       I call on the moon and it's inhabitants, the good moon people, with their blue

                       cheese culottes, who hold captive frogs for their sticky tonges and their

                       calypso, with their heavy language suitable for silt and who smile at me but

                       hardly tolerate their dull pain....fair council....to harbor.

Reviews

[Emily B]

this reminds me of Dr. Dathorne, and I really don't know why

[...]

. from my perspective, this is one of the sweetest poems about non-conformism that i have ever read ... it's a mellifluous cry for greater freedom and lesser judgment ... the images are very fascinating ... absolutely unique and innovative ...