SPOTTED MENDICANTS
Erupt the fissure from the boiling
aperture, and call this landing a home.
We are going nowhere else. Here
there are purple flowers, and edges
marked with gold. Deliverance.
-
Not to challenge the mill at the
floss, it's better to simply stay mute.
There are too many voices anyway:
recalcitrant rubberneckers, flatulent
gawkers, and those with necks too
large for their collars.
-
This world descends. There is snow
in distant places, things that have
never been before. Children are
born now with three eyes : That
third one, it seems, for far-off
vistas only they will ever see.
Spotted mendicants, and the
lethal lambs of God.
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