Thor has his hammer

Poseidon his trident

Eros his arrows

–we need a God with a broom.
 
 
 
 
A really, really big broom.

Big enough to swipe away

the web spun round our world–

a mesh that traps

light and gravity, both.

crowded by trees,

and confounded by forest,

the move to the marsh

was equally dismaying. . .

swamped by swamps

it was the same mangrove all over

again

–rendering a jump to island

the only logical relocation—

so what if

eyes-closed

thumbtack

pinned

a spinning blue

instead

of green. . .

we’re all so fully fallible–

our foibles→refillable

> inborn & instill-able <

–accept it

–to the syl•la•ble–

Enjoy it!

Make it

$ billable $

As facades

> though employable <

are fables for the

~flappable~

both sappy &

/ implacable /

a go-to for the

p  l i a b l e

a fallback

that’s detestable

unviable & liable

to render tender

* jest-able *

as bending truth is

^ laughable ^

& also Google trackable

exposing like Pinocchio

a posing braggadocio

a–nose—so—long→

it’s joke–

–ay?

Yo!

(deep breath)

…while frontages more facile…

Will prove that you’re no asshole.

Directives

are effective!

they point as they exclaim!

and since they lack the normal tact

I love them just the—

–same as meta-4′s,

the digit best to meet…

Very like a simile

with “isness” more—

–completely don’t like clauses.

Those commas cause delay!

conjunctions function

well enough

if you’ve too much to—

–say it like you mean it!

Getcher verb on

in-my-face

‘cause commons nouns

(though unadorned)

keep propers

Upper—

–case in point→

an allegory,

conceals its agenda,

the fable leading reader

to a moral at the end—

–a homonym’s a word,

that changes what it means.

Move the “e”

and lose the “c”

to render

“scene” a—

–‘seen it, read it here, folks,

that words are thoughts for food,

that’s why it’s best

to double-check,

that which you’ve construed.

I moved to Hidden Valley–

since life became distressing…

on the table,

on the label,

under words that spell: Ranch-Dressing.

The fields are ripe for harvest,

the planted rows are green–

—and veggies are

like candy bars!

And everything’s so clean.

The people there are sparkling!

their joie de vivre plain…

the ice cream treats,

are made from beets,

the kind that never stain.

The sky is always sunny–

the clouds just fluffy balls.

the only rain,

organic grain,

no GMO’s at all.

Maybe come tomorrow,

I’ll hike toward bright horizon,

follow sun–

–when salad’s done

see what’s behind the hyphen.

I’ve left my brain

–logically speaking—

in a lurch

. . .

my write brain

overloaded

scrambling

ambidextrous in the aftermath

(thank God math’s over)

so

I

seduced

induced

created a mock-up mind

smoke, mirrors

(so status quo)

and hot air

(for that must-have popcorn popper)

kinda like a pontoon that isn’t fully inflated

(it won’t win any Stanley cups)

and like any jerried Rig, there are

…ahh

deficiencies

mutations

complications…

cortical bridge overwhelmed by

bawling

bellowing

billowing boat sails

that plays havoc with recall,

and port to port cargo

(I ship you not)

Linked bracelets keep arms from flying,

and money-colored nails crucify palms in pointed, pointless stigmata

Curb but create a fisting problem, along with

matching ring cuffs which

Eyeballed size is so off eventual amputation

is a shoo in,

and ultimate, future ice-breaker, besides.

as in: “nice nubs–is that hereditary?”

Belt skips leg up loops,

but bands gut feeling

(more effective than surgery for wait control)

while thinking caps damn overflowing brains

though some synapses spill out that little flap in the back, anyway…

That flap that gives way altogether on the swelled heads lockering average minds

releasing collateral mediocrity into the atmosphere like so many GHG’s.

Jackrabbit feet

> start <

> stop <

> start <

> stop <

(start and stop, and start and stop, and start and stop, and so on—losing any sincere punctuation along the way)

held back))))

by broken streetlights,

and sock puppet races.

By tightly-laced shoes,

and missing bootstraps,

By sick sense

and experience,

and to top that—necklaces!

Necklaces of all things,

you wouldn’t think…

Well, necklaces…

Made of chain they leash,

and silk can loop & lynch,

since it’s probably adulterated, you know.

A pilling, power cord

of Unplugged boundary

that loosens by the 2^nd

but chokes a 1^st rate, Winchester noose for most everyone at least once.

(I’d hazard to say)

Slung in secret over dissolving moonbeams

just persistent enough to last

until tags pop off heifer-pierced ears…

Until cheeks full of tongue darts explode!