6666 Blue

I wonder asunder

what a whale would wonder

or whether they wander

through waters of wonder.

Above on board bottles

boast "BAM!" faces mottled

but whether bought or dottled

broken beauties cottle.

The window metal rusts

recoiling at her lust

raptous roilings dost

remedy raw must.

and in frustration

and in anger

and in desperation

and in danger

I break.

Leaving convention losing sight of solid ground

sailing Atlantic and crossing canyons hidden

beneath tons of tons of water

I

amidst tons and tons of air

wonder and I wander

and

bottles boast "BAM!"

while

recoiling at her lust.

For this, Beloved, is a Carinval (kar-knee-VAL)

and Carnival, beloved, is a mummers farce.

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