Copyright © 2010 Ernest Bloom.
the thunderwordsones, so yclept,
in solemn columns secret crept
along greenriversedge at dry
desert dawn, windgumming and
beaking in blind judgment upon
the mighty loopy entrails of
our dreadful history mystery
misery lovers prying companies
sealedover spying companions
mummysmouths in white beewax
and cliffs luscious seedcake
sweet forsaken cannibal kiss
warpax: the scars are humming;
divine stars recline, lean,
draft liens 'gainst ahab's
ghoulish, drippy scabs!
Well, that's one hot hippy way to start up the New Year. It sure feels new! Gave me the goose bumps even though I didn't understand squat. But who said poetry was always an understanding affair. It's more about feeling, good or bad-- doesn't matter so long as you feel...alive.
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