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lower the carousel please
for I have yet to cover these fateful scars
diligently lifting myself on pink and blue
genre pony is a cross between a swan and a newt
even though the archer aged
in typed faced years
above small children
I coax the conductor to invest in me
he insists on my imaginary partner
letting reins free
to vertical pole steadiness
nature leads battlefields
pounding born leaders
wizards, wards, and warriors
to perish all grocery and laundry mat colonizers
as jet setting polishes
antagonizing couples
obsessed with failure sports and irritating effects of sound
rolling off backs of tongues
with colour for certain days
oh society
romance holds tightly to these moving platters
until it’s time to perform
the perfect dismount
From Fire No 26 (2007)