in the air, all around conspiracies of beauty decanted from a golden lute
jostles the glorious canter of peace, herding all the little things into perspective
like a border collie, combing the outskirts of a wayward. and somehow a balloon
tethered to the wind of a dead calm. you can smell the pontoons of shimmer -
and shed your grief upon the endless rain. sunstricken by the thunderous moon!
you could almost spell ” atmosphere “ with a spoon.

blue skies as alabaster as a Llamas open mind. mad Laureates fanning the flames
of phantasms. hoarding their calligraphy in steam trunks to cross the Rubicon.
coiled like a viper of innocent photons… dancing on a twig,

oak is laughing now, all calm has verve and splendor.
clouds dive from the sun heart of the Implausible
and all grace falls upon the awkward diorama
of our very souls
at a glance.