All Irises In Their Own Ivory Oceans

When the sky is flooded incandescent
and the pinhole pricks
for breath give way
look up.

Focus on the unseen threads
piercing our earth
in a radiant forest
born into black,

ever unfolding across
some saturated expanse,
to bend into convex exits
empty since time's inception.

There is no message
in the waves:
a Morse Code of particles
compelled to play at order.

Take heart,
though what once
lit the lantern
may have left long ago

the body is a filament.
I exist to burn.
I burn for existence
illuminated by another iris.

Poke

What's funny about poetry



is most people don't like it.

The Youth

I saw the youth beaming,
long-haired, their pants painted on,
quoting "You've Got Mail"
and listening to CDs on a boom box
ironically. What treasures will they find
relevant, running full-circle
from bad to good? Out imperfections
unintentional ornament, cheaply manufactured
and unavailable for retail sale.

When Ice-T came on the radio,
from his Gangster Spring,
spitting rhymes about the streets,
thugging, bitches, dealing, chains,
they thought of Law and Order
and wondered what it means.

Bigfoot

Look at those flippers!


You know what they say
about guys with big feet?

They have big shoes hahahahaha

Good Lord your feet are huge.

So is my cock, but that
is purely coincidental.

I would give anything for half
of one of those.

I looked down and he had no legs.

Williamsb(e/u)rg

The blacksmith
has a mustache
ill-proportioned to his face.
His bike is made of old horse shoes.

Lately, he has disturbed the ambiance
by referencing pop culture
apologetically and with the utmost seriousness.

Stay in character
they tell him.