the very last ripple of mister most important

you are important in an office far away
                                                            lanyard noosed  –  a four cornered
                                                            copy of yourself  .laminated to last.
you can wipe this version of yourself clean, lucky boy lucky boy

in your apartment of jarred pasta sauces and video games
                                                            a timemachine bides time without whining –
                                                            your buttonfaced creation: watching
                                                            as you capture kingdoms with overused thumbs

you are so very clever with your knowledge of mathematical things
                                                            you have a mind full up of complicated equations
                                                            and a niggling worry about the globs of solder on your
                                                            beige stained carpet

.

.

.

To me, darkrunning th ink ing, these
 globs are all stars – lluminated
by kisSes and the
smooothness of
      cobbles.       
solderbeads turn
to silver gypsy charms
mingling to tinkle a secret
solder-glob sonata. 
they slyly pinch nail-crescents up your soft-spine,
sparkling sopranos spurning lazy lovers in the eggfaced dark.

this is what i see

.

.

 

you see solder on your carpet which may or
                                                                may not
                                                                be covered by your comprehensive insurance cover

                                                                and i
dryeyed

file you with a mild-smile
                                                                under L

 a timemachine can not work by numbers alone

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~ by Beeskiffle on October 27, 2007.

2 Responses to “the very last ripple of mister most important”

  1. You have reached a new height in your poetry. Releasing yourself into splendour. You know I am not prone to hyperbole or superlatives but these last two poems are so complete and so clear in their vision and still with your unique songlike voice. I am awestruck.

  2. No it can’t… numbers alone and words alone … sometimes it needs a pinch of something more to make it real? Look at me so wistful… agh Ebby… your writing is a dream.

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