1070

UNABLE TO PLACE THE LANGUAGE

The quest narrative gives the doctor
Shooting stars where his twinkies
Plan out the births of bodhisattvas
Hushing what does not accept a presence
Or even a rain hat, and the meaning
Is a fucked style, a bible
With a steering wheel, you can polish
The velcro with your indignant snoozing
But stigma after stigma knows
You've set up a foundation for them
To peer into like a saucepan
Or a gameboy. All the same
Something else combs the highlights
Into my chips. Whence it/they derive
Be not for me to say except
That the words come naturally enough,
Like local trains, or perennials.
Someone thought them a good idea.