The chewmack is fuzzy in the night air
Making you wonder
WTF is he talking about
It's just an earthworm chewing through the center screen
Soaking up the limelight
Asking it's fellow gypsies what to do
With the spots in the moon
It's not theirs to know
Nor desks to find
That study the night air
In a sea of elbows and socks
Whereabouts unknown
In cockle shells alive alive oh
That pierce downstream
Laying low their elbows in a raft
Gauging temperatures below I
Before flying and leaving
Those wastelands of the mind
That pickles the night air
Fowl as fox in a hornets nest
Yoweling for the cat to come in
Not listening to the change
As night flashes by
Purple mountains drink to stay warm
Serving beverage of nights past
Cracking the bottle, pour the wine
It's not me. I'm still here
Callibrating the six and nine
For winter fest, summer is here
Right between the arrows
Of humankind and ashes
Not ours for the knowing
But passing days for discovering
Which way is that
And why is becoming
Fashioning the grade
The lights are out
Heroes want to know
The trays they're in
Is not just another school lunch
Boxes open shut case
There's laughter, but no one's there
A wiping nose, a tepid stream
Circles round you
When this become about me?
It always has been
Gone away
Bed waiting
Tunnels
Denis Streeter 5/12/23
