over why, why, why
in crying caterwauler,
when what is, is, is...
is the feast of now.
In disco ball vision
the dancer of wily writhe
happy claps in the patient
wait of the next move.
The preying mantis
cavorts in green robes
of his regal imagination,
in hindsight misgiving.
Crack a gentle whip and hear
the thunder of mortar and
pestilence grow silent
in a bottoms up world.
The praying man-
tis stifling rubies..
One over on me dude...
the woman is standing
on the bridge wondering,
should I take you back
for all of your preying?
This is just too perfect, rascal!
ReplyDeleteThank you Mr. Boyd... I feel a swoon coming on ;>)
ReplyDelete