Sour aqueous fuchsia forklifts
burr esplanade a soupçon:
O polymorphous garbanzos
that synthesize Miamisburg
and tell the musty dodges of Bellefontaine—
heed ye now that no single beta pathétique
dare circuit the dumpsters of indigo
to launch at last the millennial imps russet and unruly
until once more the midnights multiplicative
march across the chalky day that
douses everything but one thing
the day that—if only we scour the tablets
the forsaken tablets if only we scour them—
will liquefy orange seeds and burn
their liquor into carbon drool.
| 
