Cascade
Remember
when mechanical hardware was made of giant’s bone? Suppose a
system of pots, fitted beneath with shaped metal feet, piped water
like blood, for use of its weight, to print symbols on stone. Did they speak?
What uneasy evidence betrays a mind complete?
Weathermen
have dispatched this boomerang while tracing my mind’s cliffs. But how much
sternness would a locked steel door lose, for a key behind, and knowledge
thereof? No perspective will soothe these serpentine riffs. Nourish and
metabolize for pure fun this garden of the mind.
Become
a living cascade, who finds
sleep in the ocean, one brain
charged with shifting bonds.
Vibrate
with the serenade, reduce
pleasure to motion, like steam
burns from fibrous fronds.
Two eels,
bodiless, we’ll be, lighting
round the nerve-linked sea – finding
friends, spawning new ponds.