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.