a poem i recently wrote
The Prince of Jello
The Prince of Jello posits that a wary vase
upon a solemn shelf may make merry any
arbiter if viewed with an articulate eye
whose gaze has the constancy of emerald.
He wanders a street in Canada seeking out
late library books. When he finds one, he finds
that book a home within the aether's torpor,
and the home is just so as the book is.
When he takes a self-portrait swathed with
laundry fresh from the dryer, he emits sound
beams of delight in the hue of brisk modernity
whose strength and ardor lies in the taste of lime.
Conversing with his friend the aimless stranger,
he pulls vivacious faces for the entertainment
of small children, and they smile with their eyes.
Thus I bellow: there is only one Prince of Jello.
The Prince of Jello posits that a wary vase
upon a solemn shelf may make merry any
arbiter if viewed with an articulate eye
whose gaze has the constancy of emerald.
He wanders a street in Canada seeking out
late library books. When he finds one, he finds
that book a home within the aether's torpor,
and the home is just so as the book is.
When he takes a self-portrait swathed with
laundry fresh from the dryer, he emits sound
beams of delight in the hue of brisk modernity
whose strength and ardor lies in the taste of lime.
Conversing with his friend the aimless stranger,
he pulls vivacious faces for the entertainment
of small children, and they smile with their eyes.
Thus I bellow: there is only one Prince of Jello.