45. `Are they in the prisoner's handwriting?' asked another of the jurymen.
meta-Rabbit crashing Arthur Rackham! run! ('ccompanying poem-a-day 'llustrations)
45. June 16, 2010 (wed.)
i dreamt the White Queen tried to grope me, a toffee
-sticky change purse, a linty bribe i didn't recognize
in the morning, there was proof. My shrink should
wear a fez, and be more caterpillar-ly
when he wonders if it's black knave humour,
a spoked wheel joke gone too far. Who are you,
lost Jew in sandals with cut-out cathedral windows
wandering the 'hood behind the Christian Science
reflecting pool, finding my way to Chapter 12,
Alice's Evidence read-through in Mary of the pink
guitar's basement music studio. i can't help but finish
my Buddhaccessory drawing while white rabbit
-ing, petting imaginary riverbed trees' leaves
out of Mali-- Malice's hair. All persons more than a mile
high and not in an implied (mimed) Burger King crown
must leave the court room. At home i pack
anything that will match my white fur
and my missing whiskers, attach a jingling
clock face to my estate sale pearls.
Realize the neurotic timepiece-keeper
gibbering the evidence in verse suits me
far more than i ever realized, red mary jane
in one hand, the other rubbing tired pink eyes.
week7: 1, 2
http://locksmithy.livejournal.com/tag/poem-a-day
archived on poetesss.tumblr: week1 - week2 - week3 - week4 - week5 - week6
weekly archives ~ http://poetesss.tumblr.com/tagged/poem_a_day
45. June 16, 2010 (wed.)
i dreamt the White Queen tried to grope me, a toffee
-sticky change purse, a linty bribe i didn't recognize
in the morning, there was proof. My shrink should
wear a fez, and be more caterpillar-ly
when he wonders if it's black knave humour,
a spoked wheel joke gone too far. Who are you,
lost Jew in sandals with cut-out cathedral windows
wandering the 'hood behind the Christian Science
reflecting pool, finding my way to Chapter 12,
Alice's Evidence read-through in Mary of the pink
guitar's basement music studio. i can't help but finish
my Buddhaccessory drawing while white rabbit
-ing, petting imaginary riverbed trees' leaves
out of Mali-- Malice's hair. All persons more than a mile
high and not in an implied (mimed) Burger King crown
must leave the court room. At home i pack
anything that will match my white fur
and my missing whiskers, attach a jingling
clock face to my estate sale pearls.
Realize the neurotic timepiece-keeper
gibbering the evidence in verse suits me
far more than i ever realized, red mary jane
in one hand, the other rubbing tired pink eyes.
week7: 1, 2
http://locksmithy.livejournal.com/tag/poem-a-day
archived on poetesss.tumblr: week1 - week2 - week3 - week4 - week5 - week6
weekly archives ~ http://poetesss.tumblr.com/tagged/poem_a_day