They swap oratory quarries,
spouting elephant delays till
dappled moonrise bends the sullen shills
in dishcloth travesties of spoon erasure,
shifting crescendos into sidecar snouts.
Revolutionaries style a shelf
from lettuce neckline voyages
before habitual informants
crop the whaler’s oily tease,
lining doormat bandwagons
for snaking sweet pea double cinders.
Our flavors cite looping centipede excursion drifts
of steaming snow in showered headline brazier tires,
billowed into foreign rubber stench
and undertow repudiation.
Miniscule kite fires chase a chowder piper band
from chambered ridge to sutured regatta stairs,
drowned to tungsten midriff scat’s
immutable predictor net.
Hairy aristocrats tremble
blinkered Morse code noise
in squeaky grommet alibis,
ruining her retrofit
of dowager revival.
Smaller loops release
six parachutes from
expurgated diction fairs,
padlocking peduncular Pinocchio
in gyrating gymnasium grails
till camels opt for grassy dolts
in overtaxed asylum pleas.
Coffers belch extreme police
in fuse resurgence,
sapping insipid oddities
for sacrificial hambone ballast.
Feebly shelled beanbag zealots
morph to reprobates of third-tier
stentorian gargoyle chard,
muffing the sodden keg hop
in satyr turf toe switchback toil,
respite all but carrying a teased
optometrist’s slender squid.
Shouldering softly shorn
municipal bust lines,
crowds of swollen faces
trudge annually to silvered vents,
grating their sneezed whiz kids
into shiny trusted imitations
of slobbered lawman grease
and groveling coded escapades.
Virtuous espadrilles whine
to fifty copulating corn cob capitalists,
speeding into peddled sound
for gravy incantations
of mottled holographic smiles
and collocated denture talismans.
Purple majesties frown gracefully
at passing ossification monkeys,
questioning tarrying dignitaries
with right-handed aplomb.
He would’ve gotten up
for an altered cupola of tee-ball decoupage
and fulsome trim-time dipstick pet remorse,
but remoulade invaded enfilading vocal habits
at dicey bipedal mounds of looped stoolie minima,
arching for soldered gypsy teabag refuse,
shining in fettered car door grudges.
One could flounder in poured lobster
or androidal samovar seclusion mines
from noun discloser’s foveal finned petard
to octagonal leavings of Gung-Ho Cheeto Mink’s
dynastic plumb line rotary loan vine,
but Iditarod slush would still molt without
your consensual noggin’s necrophilic nod,
relapsing to slowed mulch or has-been gold
or teetering endgame ardor or conjoined twine.
John Pursch lives in Tucson, Arizona. His work has been nominated for Best of the Net and has appeared in many literary journals. A collection of his poetry, Intunesia, is available at http://www.lulu.com/
spotlight/whiteskybooks. Check out his experimental lit-rap video at https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=l33aUs7obVc. He’s @johnpursch on Twitter and john.pursch on Facebook.