poetry of canned fruit
self disciplined torture,
frequent eraser marks
suggesting deported loaded dice,
internal eternity fixtures capturing neogothic camera cats
parading down streets,
masquerading as bad buffalo soldiers.
as the rodeo dust settles in,
rowdy cavalcades will reside:
in a place where yesterday gets swapped for yesterday’s sunrise:
a place where dogs holistically bark at red mountain dumps:
a place where startled sleep replaces laughing dreams:
a place where April nods out in rhymed doorways:
someplaceanyplace where residue poems survive
the next prophesized stampede out of this free verse Armageddon.