ekleksographia

If that’s what you’re doing then do it;
Wrapped up in your own story
And given how she gets around,       
Talking so much for the first time
Now here as they say begins
The reprisal of a weak force:
The father of the house, rust v.
Wheel, Mommy’s little darling                      
Busily plays the baker.
This is how windshields                                 
Are made and here we are
On our way.  Which is fair.  So
Bear it.  And if we have an idol,
A model, a road to follow,                            
Know that the accumulated weight
Could convert to their hoods
And pretty neighbors from their hooks         
And eyes.  I remember it well.  But               
What a memory!  Another hypostasis
Effected in the road between
The woman and the table when my eyes
Closed, when the apples and peaches
Were put in taxis and there was only
The next franchise                                          
To flag (hedonist or not).                               
Oh, the nudes.  Or covers and           
Coverings shook out
Because a whistling
Whim won’t cut the mustard.