Queen Jerry
feeling qualified
to do neither
and not very ready
to buckle in
and speaking of
the blue Ferrari
on our street this morning
made me giddy
bouncing down
the sidewalk
plush with air
what was open
was an opening there
not just the passing
of a staging of opulence
corridor cordoned off
for a king
some masculine
bullshit ringing
principled stand
-ards of defeat
which imply
simply
success
for a winner
is every loser
outright butler
flat tire singing
the license plate frame
insisting
“it cost to be a boss
apply pressure”
while there was a grave
-yard under the graveyard
where they put
these kinds of things
frosted from centuried
layers unyielding
to torches forced thru
by the torpid
not that we’d noticed
the portal transporting
songs in from yonder
a Lucite alembic
a membrane
absconding
the blind hierarch’s bond
it was blonding
Post-World
cinchy winch
a narrow clinch
snorting chorus
in a pinch
you are only
just an inch
away from saying
what you mean
you can glean
from a tub
that’s just been
rubadubdubbed
scoured of scum by some
schlubby bum
born form where
his name came from
we only do
what has been done
magick magic
from a plastic gun
dream of music
on the run
resurface the image
make us sound more fun
pliant giant
decaying tyrant
leaky soup from
a fire hydrant
coagulated
in the street
all the promises
are bleeps
chimera lucida
indica dinghy
there is no telling
what has been scooped
in service of what
and where
and who
forensic files
the ribboning miles
tower of computers
circulating clips
the field
underground
this bad
rushing sound
faint aroma
wild cloud
the great monoxide
mote of loud
bluish shroud
loosening nouns
effluced caboose
meandering crowd
the petals append
into a sphere
we portend to be
lingering near
disappearing
in the clear
magnetic wheel
an infinite well
and that intoxicating
greasy smell
oort cloud of
an ice world
rogue planet
ghost chord