It is time for the tinkledoes to refurbish their garbamanments
And submergify their plantains which have plainly grown
Way beyond their potential. There is only so much growing
A plantain is allowed to do. The tinkledoes carry the burden
Of poof, and they need to do something every once in a while
to live up to that burden. So submergification of plantains it
Is today. Maybe tomorrow something else, who knows? There
Is only so much knowing that one is allowed to do.
– Blather gast uber somuch that it perambulates.
– Sun sees the day in. It is quiet but thoughtful. The dark runs away.
– When the father of the land says goodbye, the children think it is only proper to reply likewise.
– There is grass; there is not-grass.
– The lioness is sitting and thinking how things could be different. She can only sit and think for so long as it is getting late and it is lunch time, and the kids are getting hungry.
– There is fire; there is not-fire.
There is movement on this side of the fence. Strain
Your ear to hear and it is possible, just possible,
That you might catch a murmur.
Lift the pen and make a word. Let meaning
Breathe a little.
An eye catches a glimpse. Witness to something
That could have, might have, happened.
There is knocking on the door. Now why wouldn’t
They just ring the bell?
Thought churns out a thought and something
Bubbles up to the surface. The pen moves.
Meaning breathes. The eye shifts its focus.
Bell rings. Time to open the door and
Welcome the guest, the stranger, or
Even the familiar in new light.