Lanthanum 10.4

4

Hobo shakes his shaky Shrovetide palm
with a handful of doubled (iced). Dicey, this
wistful one; not congregate with the mighty.
Yet his heart greatly rejoiceth (Bum

Smiles Thru Tears). Your sadness (flighty-
voluminous)... much like these little gnats
weaving brief light-show shawl (Psyche-
parasol) by trunk of tremendous, defunct, once-

&-future mighty oak. Be aware, idiot-gods
of marching, of your ideas... be wary that
nevertheless, thru volleys of mockery, night
may befall, leftenant (in autumn... harvest-

odes, funereal, grimpen). That oak a craggy cliff
lifting bracken-alms toward sun’s cloud-muffled
azure (tall remnant of marigold). Tuft
of milkweed memory, its cloud released (gift

of dead bees). O vagrant monarch, wandering
batman-baton! Under the volcano
of your unbelief... coraggio, amigo! Sow
your seedling myrrh, amnesiac Madaleña...

bully, Dionysiac! Arch like the nut you are,
Maggie Mick o’Magnesia – these numbers
do not lie! Wailing Miners Strike! (umber
vein... violet bread, wine). Them bearers

ford a rude saw-theater (hands’ operations)
– one dust-encumbered ailing Railman splits
the night (with Queen of Spades, nitwits!). O
most-artefactual Atlantis Rose – congratulations!

3.15.12