Hold heart and clean sink
It is the please for good travel

Bellow your pets into a confusion
Rid them of comfort
Rile them of the dwellings familiarity

Approach the teller
the coach
the salter of plans
and undo it
part the tissue of its apparition
a feature no more

Finally
with nowt packed
sleeve the threshold
with a tipsy
and easy whim

Upon the clouds
The whimsical thought
Plops down
Falls straight through
The gaseous H2O
Into my head
Causing it to be penned
Which you have now read

Though a wimpy, tiny, and puny
(smaller than a breadbox) Ogre
whereat my portable minuscule
fingerhut size adobe abode ex
posed to Strunk and White raw
grammatical elements of style,

I counted Flip (Wilsonian) view,
to camouflage myself anytime
and anywhere as significant add
vantages. The obvious down side
(i.e. severe limitations to pull off

major coup) forced me to axe
paunches pilot while taking a chopper
if I van nah miniaturize daring deed
(done dirt cheap) reconfigured,

retouched, recorded by Das scribe
named Magnum Opus. Indeed,
this chance to golong (equivalent
of Olympic gold) foretold peering
into granule size barren crystal ball.
Preliminary steps undertaken

to pull off impossible mission;
mo' difficult than a blind man
taking eighty steps to Honah
infiltrating 70+ shades of gray area

prime Donald Trump real estate.
A priority prevailed to act on
the QT (q-tip) lest cover get blown,
and suspicious communique encrypted
to gal lobe trotting henchmen.
Urgency spurred daring deed,
cuz targeted subject in question

(majority population counted
as debouched, delirious, and
demonstrably dangerous
demagogue, in short a "FAKE"
president! Security details
(like stray cats on the prowl),

could sniff out ploy to re
program depraved, deranged,
and detached supposed Master
at helm. His audacity, effrontery,
and isolationist iffy ideology
placed him squarely as half baked
cookie monstrosity against

United States Commander in Chief.
First order of business necessitated
tranquilizing this doughty, haughty
enemy of the Lumpenproletariat!

Renown chemist friends of mine
(actually War tin buddies) alias
Diet Coke and/or Diet Pepsi
secured an ampule Taj Mahal

~ circa 1631vintage. One ampule
viz pill could knock out a giant –
sans, Jack and the beanstalk fame.
No ifs, and or bots, the secret
got pulled off without spilling

figurative (jelly) beans. Once
inside auditory labyrinth, I
immediately noticed striking
deus ex machina ***** riot ting
resemblance to microscopic cave.
A thick baad *** sieve sludge
of cerumen sis tah

(waxy substance) deaf finitely
posed an initial dilemma,
which audio slave solution
entailed collaboration to build
a toothpick fence. Pensiveness

unexpectedly found subject
reflexively scratching, poking,
and jabbing inadvertently
finding me toward ground zero.

I'm on a whim contemplating between disparity and continuity.


Stuck between where the fire meets its maker doused in gasoline.

Who self destructed to the point where her hands aren't clean.


And turning a deforested soul into a forest full of wanderlust.

Moving along with Earth's rotation as she becomes crystallized into her origin of star dust.


Cemented between inhaling the start of another new season.

And exhaling out gun powder from the war waged against self treason.


Feeling the outline of my fingerprints just to pretend his skin is still touching mine.

And reading the crystal ***** as they fall down my cheeks telling me his heart was never aligned.


I can't choose between the feeling of infinity and ephemerality.