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notes towards an essay on connoisseur-ship
it's isn't
there's nothing there
beeswax,
lychee, almond, spice
bramble
fruits and pencil shavings
those notes
the berries
and the forest trail
what's
imagined leans into the real
so that you
can almost taste
like Tantalus
in vino
but I won't
say which
there's a
chamber piece
just a little
tipple
mustn't tap
one's feet
snifter's all
sunset
then nocturne
smoke weed
for a symphony
hear the
stream by which once grew
and later
oceanic
the William
Tell Overture was speed
ekkies are a
lullaby
a spray of
baby's breath
and LSD's
refracted light
a screensaver
dances out hologrammatic
that is one
of the futures you know
ice is
equally prophetic
except that
now you're God
a glacier
tumbling of towers
9/11 heaven
is hell
vast drunk or
overdo any in fact
and you've an
anthem full of blood
no deeds but
those already done
the words
catch you asleep
Now that is a brilliant exposition of the ways the sidewinders move.
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