Copyright © 2009 Ernest Bloom.
Four batteries that need recharging
Seven dwarves who need enlarging
Three workdays screwing steadily down
This side of the horizon you're
Not to be found
Three years gargling fermenting words
Swatting at the biting birds
Djinn wishes swallow ninety-nine nights
I've exhausted the vales confident you're
Fearful of heights
One white cross on each Boothill mound
Seventeen more ounces for every lost pound
Zero zebras prefer white on black
You take sixty-two steps toward me and then
Sixty-three back
Ninety-six tears drip crimson in clover
Twelve kids beckon Red Rover right over
Two cats complain for food or for sleep
It's a shallow slope to you but inflation
Keeps the price too steep
Hah, I love the humor and absurd of it all. The rhymes feel, I'm not sure why, somewhat warm and loving. The vanity of the speaker's advances to his or her love is splendidly emphasized by the absurdity and disconnection of the various expressions. The numbers not only introduce a sort of refrain-like melody but also make one wonder if they have any meaning(if love has any meaning). Maybe there is a message hidden in that string of seemingly random integers? Intriguing.
ReplyDeletean absurd calculus.
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