agape and gleaming
continuity’s fantastic riven
nativity’s long scene, set up for
the last ride
to St. Charles
to let slip
imitative, telemetric,
brandishing willows;
Green, alive, oaks extorting Easter
magnolias of impaled adolescent
furies, roughed-up anomie’s
disabuse-of-poetic
compunction, posing, not to
look back: your
stoned semiotic conspiracy
in a choleric, and low mood.
As many else, could
not contain: the brown sugar,
kosher salt —
Quinean daemons.