Saturday, October 18, 2014

Wavelet

It grooves from nothing going on
to hardwired switchblade dead-end drawn
out sideways zagged splayed serpentine
equestrian ragged surfaced climbing

up towards respiring streets
condensed circuitous retreats
a pint, a loaf, a wheel, a glance,
encapsulated happenstance

perspiring produced sing-song packs
among alighting toyed hijacks flin
flon the minted green eyelashes,
zigging xylophonic stashes

mellowed out the thief's exchange,
the roundabout coerced disdainful
ruckus, hey, it was plus 23,
October's cranked preferred degrees.

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