Habit
I
cry
from
coma’s deep
departure
lounge,
warbling
through
swollen
turnstiles
of
youth beam carousels
and tattered
newsreels,
seated
with a lonely
boxcar
tart.
I
come to
in
waves of trembling,
subside
to junked recital
phase
of burnt munitions
ligament
installment plan
for
neural referential care,
taken
hourly to support
imploding
worm habit.
Car Lung Burbles
Coned luck fuels
delightful leeward lassitude’s
cremated lexicon of bobbled
sifted token ease, munching
steady crosstop praxis with
bingeing quick notation gel
on paltry ancillary drip-dry
factories of angular pelicans.
Stellar periodic jets immerse
amino placard gusts in punky
tawny pavement windows
turned to hourly benefactor
issues by eventful colocation
stance portrayal fowl.
Hefty laudanum conflates
inspired effulgent tributaries
with selfish sentry fallacies of
“How comestible concoctions
mystify corrosive grape-tune
table spruce in stable dockyard
hooligans of sentience and
meatball praise.”
Etched orangutans mean
ladled soporific locket
quest confection mules,
currying in scurvy car lung
burbles of washboard
seashore dandelions.
Gurgling Bots
Time gives way
to nadir’s intro,
sanding jackets into
yellowed pagination,
plumbing stately gout
for footfall iridescence,
gaveled into silence.
The crowd rises, grousing slowly
at sequestered pitchman rodeos,
intoned by actualities of blindly
dotted highway soup in peaceful
signage minestrone bellows,
weaving turpentine collusion
mastiff flits from seashore tweed
to ever-ceasing mortal umbrage,
humbly heaven so extravagant
in skylight swing set diner
maws of basement twirling
foveal clock shadows cast by
newsprint time recorder.
At almost smacks ye wander husk
ant whore inguinal quest of ions,
iconic irony, stumped waveforms,
guideline gargoyles, gremlins,
and gurgling petty boxcar bots,
but noses spell the outer mullets
into teased disuse, used disease,
and dunderheaded dandelion
encyclopedic palimony coulisse,
molded into ornery pavement
numerology, chesty thyme
four grisly moths to skulk
and glow in bothered mall
rotation.
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/
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