toad & orphan toad
June 30, 2016 § Leave a comment
my strange little plane, toad and orphan toad, squished
together in adjacent seats, perhaps a jittery attraction,
the kind overpowered by I must flee. But I cannot
flee into the sky, can I? and only vaguely wish to try.
But can your fear fuel a plane?
This they doubt, so sit back, then up,
so your body does not become the hills, like only
a giant in remorse, or in labor, can.
The princess spurned him, because he was a brute.
Down he went, come to beat me
with this calculus book – an abysmal route –
but the gravitational pull of the moon
lifts a simple scalpel from the fold of the dunes.
Obsolete, scarcely noted, beg the clocks
to crush their blueprint
leaving anything but a footprint
slowly along this encroachable sky.
Believe the irregular circle, die for better reasons,
like getting poisoned, or baked into a pie.
Now suture the axis that shifts along the limit of a thought;
molting meridian, the orbit of what’s sought.