Dragonfly launches from somnolent lily pad
and joins, with agile grace, the air force
of the world. Pivoting planes course
unforeseen plateaus (Nature's toolshed
multiplied plein air). Hobo-Oblomov
meanwhile rests his case. His little file
of origami paper. Like a pillow-
case, under a drowsy brow. Off
work again, it seems. Homespun topology
(a gyroscope, in a bottle, in a shipment
of vodka). Crisp spirit quiescent
holding pattern - Pure Oblomology.
Between rest and the forest comes gardening,
George, his friend keeps telling him. Hobo
looks up from his model Blue Morpho, glancing
across town. Bottom of the ninth inning,
somewhere, he thinks. Life's a ball game.
Players play, lawyers lawyer, builders
build, mothers mother, poets... ponder,
lapping their papyri into paper flame.
The fold was not a simple alternating
crease. Each step led upward, on a steeper
plane. Cocoon came first, crimped sheer
to chrysalis. All in by agitating
linked caster-cortèges through a stiff
iron gut, separated from pulchritudinous
hencoop (voltage 715 henrys) (deceased)
by hunched inchworm (butterfly valve).