“___ day when my jaw is gone
and tobacconist’s flower
top-of-cherry
root ash crop is in
too wired a bloom
decrying/writing
(‘ex nihilo nihil fit’)
and extinguished off by
our arrested judgement’s
interruption of all
airy sequence of
epiphanic satori dreamings
pluck off ass-head bottoms
may prophesy on
the swallowed
lung as consequence
proffered this venture
in snide slide retort —
(whose punitive
imposition’s alliance
sacrificing grit for taste
of fresh lip to
knotted lock
is gone without
scorched shunning
under leaf in
ponderous bond
baubles thrown
to chorus for
blackest eye
and darted prawn;
Subsumes luminescent
red-orange shell
cut crayfish gems –
hatching the midday
theme’s ritual song.”)