Tuesday, September 3, 2013

My generation’s best phrenologists said
Something about a rose, windblown carcasses
Displayed just so to say your head isn’t right
On the coffee cup emblazoned Memphis
No Elvis in my mid-day buzz but sanity
At an all-time premium: some tree, that one,
Over there with the crested jay & the foam
Finger. These are the finest days, the days
Of broken surplus & pamplemousse.
Your soda gives me pause: it’s broken
Over here, so many bubbles, so little text.
& the next best ratchet foams a coastal
Rise of trees & monumental rocks alight.