poetry critical

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Millennia
Known

2.47
 1
 
 
Caution signs sign to you in languages unknown going on about the dangers you carryover through stems of black daffodil on the abacus you remembered to bring back to the ice shelf of your cupboard covered with de-iced slushes in the boots on the mantle drying out in the dry dessert now soggy in the bog of baked beans you ate with 2 broken bottles on the patio writing patents exhaustedly impatience flowing through your fingerprint's principal parsing of luggages you lug like rugby scrums around your selfish selves berating order in orchid orchards you denigrated your child under the fruit of the forgiven bib of cauliflower bundling your earrings you rolled from the tins we bought in the antique shop your faults own they purchased from the purchase of your chance to support your stance on the dangers of the middle-road travelled by those who wished for some signage giving you correct directions for every turn possible one could take could one take turns without derailing the detriment along the way raising questions without answering machines taping your words to the phone you called oblivion on by dialing pi on the rotary you bought with the money you bought after losing your grip on real realty you surveyed with dowsers glowing lightly in the evening even when the wombats wilt the walls of unwillingness to reach your true desire you have yet to experience in circles of sobriety you visit to uninitiate your compliance from the bundles of banded bits blossoming in the logos of lended apéritifs as you drink after the midnight specialist reveals his real destiny as the dentistry schools teach you how to pull teeth out of dentures and servants you refuse to pay in anything but the teeth of remora you feed upon with morels and fine Chardonnay unfurling your simile like fire breathes colors into the cones of your memory you have yet to connect and piece together the portions of the day your heart broken into full pieces resembling 2 (too) new parts in the back of the oxen cart you trail in ways one can easily track and field the radar of your tentacles you know the field's nature through through the fog of the forbidden you must dive into the pile of swan feathers accruing as you recollect the turmeric dust from their wings they gathered for your mandala of magnetic designations we found as we pushed through the loss of your confusion into spaces much grander than those known characters characteristics seem to cherish in departing ghosts departing from beneath the streetlight flickering in your allusions toward the forward progress moving on from what you wish to be immediate that becomes the slight correction to the course you never even signed up for that saves lives upon lives unlike those that inhabit the realms of slavery placed upon them as bonds we were always going to break our hands slipping from the cuffs.
 2

5 Feb 17


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