jet, black
ex (ozymandian
plosions weapons
almost inaudible project)
in the sky so fa
faraway
aurora is its
name they say : glowing
belly like a fire-drake it
skips the round
pond
of the atmosphere, pops
in when you least
ex
pect it and
screaming in to the thin air,
releases death
upon thee: be
ware, for our kings
are mighty .
2012.
i kn ock back diamond s
and wait for them to
unfect me
I drop a few
and watch them roll
across the table : orange ,white
yellow blue
I take back
my mind
from the sky for a few hours
and bring it here , jewelled, to you
it is a dead bird , staring , car
buncled and no new ideas
curling and/or trilling
from its wicked hook
of a beak greasy
feathers , poached blank eyes
and a smell
maybe fleas
i knock back diamonds
and sink them with a clear cool fool's brew
of water
©Peter A. Greene 2012
