Mark this spot on the sun. Do it now.
You have your east minus west and the dead skin from mummified snow...
you must be one of those
Ancient stones, I skip across the altar.
Would you now be altered -
to call forth the fifth drum, the first fife and the long drone ?
If not, do this... shift your weight
to your better angels
and hum -
Some lung-free dirge
in the Demi-corona
of your obstinate
tongue ?
Your purple transcendental flying cow...bovine divine and howitzer quiet -
Shuns the fundamental hopscotch,
the thatch latch and the Kumquat
So surely
there is time enough to
thumb dots
Where your third eye
was last caught
seeming.

Mark my words, or become lost. Do it now.

Or Knot.