come listen to this hoot

An astute asphaltic
      child; “you are born with
      out a star on your back, you

Care with the bee’s
      whistle, don’t you?” the
      reindeer will not begin to

Cry now, it is not the
      hour nor the wish of
      day to mourn; such is such.

when becoming streams past
    as the firemaiden sneaks
    you in custody

of her lair, the most, the
    womb, the ire of birth
    when becoming screams

past as the firechalice casts
    hubris as option, praxis
    as molecular dystopy

this triple adversary: i) bang
   of night’s reluctance

ii) salutary premonitions that
   breach every uttering

that maws the goo, floors pits
   iii) our ague, valour


o votary of speech/mang
led vituperated railing

o vesper lying thrashed
threshold of residuals-

o vine of mangle vitupe
ration railing ghast vo

id thrust into volition

the dagger bites your heart in
tiny decibels

come listen to this hoot this un
lie true to

nothing but the sound of scratch
and urn &

hiss turn blather…

3 comments on “come listen to this hoot

  1. mrsorenson says:

    playful with deadly seriousness. thanks

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