The oceans’ froth betrothed to lunatic scoff
The sublunary elegance of a subdued earthen cough
Infectious pulchritude conjures snow-globe turpitude
Defiant humility professes to know the rudeness of the crude
Distilled casually in a leery trance
Terpsichorean choreography of a hallowed prance
Callow scowls affix the hebetude of anger to the sauciness of banter
Gallant cavalries court the cult of she and enamor and enchant her
Foretold calamities proceed like clockwork from God’s destructive jaundice
Death deployed as a sententious homily of wraiths that taunt us
At every turn fatidic inspirations work to cement a known outcome
Averted gaze away from rampant gays and fire-and-brimstone bunkum
We cherish a world where the stodgy and outmoded monopolize choice considerations
Where hedonism abreast of asceticism are internecine intimidations
Suffer like Christ and buffer like tenacious poverty sustained by rice
Dare to glower with menacing insistence at the known outcome of errant dice
Soothsayers soothe prayers but cataclysm still dares
To pulverize innocent insouciance and become the cynosure of trepidation and stares
Heaven blares a deafening “obey” while hell stays silent to lure the prey
Hobnob with hobgoblins and expect opprobrium to park and stay
Gentility and class-divisions orchestrate a frozen system of tenacious prisons
Stalking the lifeblood of mainlined ecstasies and surgical incisions
Minority Report within the grasp of the majority uproar
Dalliance with a self-fulfilling time means there will always be a bout between Bush and Gore
Lecherous eyes prize a hedged bush and irascible lies seek copious gore
But because the bush ensconces the ****** in bed with China the twin towers imploded for common core
Mondegreens serenade a mistaken flirtation with a time traversed and mastered
Swelling tides hearken the moon to make a hypothetical bonanza out of disaster
Enumerated infinity within esoteric grasp and pandered sequester
Bedazzled of foreknowledge  it charters the uncharted exploitation faster and faster
Burgeoning funds entertain a mind cloistered by infamy and oppressed by indecency
Burbling puns ecstatic about the perpetuity of guns hector the province of a token leniency
Squander the day and indulge the night by knowing exactly the demise of every shooting star
Knowing the origin and legacy of every single scar
Knowing the path creates the path known
Every single stock you know you should with alacrity own
Prosperous kinship and insubordinate brinksmanship win the prejudiced award
Fencing with lethal intent the specter of death devolves into irenic accord
Envy the impregnable corporate machine and its unassailable pipe dream
Hunt the Wolfs of Wall Street until panic evolves into cacophony of screams
Democratization of prophecy will cue the most titanic robbery
Shills looking for upstart thrills will pretend an unwarranted snobbery
Paradox is impossible because every moment elapsed is indelible and irrevocable
Every frisson of love is fertile and impregnable
So rejoice that the masters of the clock invest in select stocks
And hope that parcels of secrecy tumble from the 1919 White Sox
Emerald Street knows When the Music ‘s Over
Brandished crumbs adorned with sportive panache clothed in a lucky clover
Deprived of snide tithes and the confessions of millions protest a catholic cabal of universalism draped in quaint overalls
Mock the hegemony of the sailing class and their brisk and copious squalls
Opulent scions vouch for the failsafe prerogatives of Zion
Sleeping awake we indulge the oneiromancies of Orion
Cinematic wonders regale glorified eavesdropped blunders
Until the secrecy of the machine is so conspicuously in sight it tears the elected pantheon asunder
A master race of an intelligent nepotism in denial of its own disgrace
Exploits the argosy of secrets of the flying-disked race
But one day a challenger like a rooster will orient the demotic vogue towards the treasure trove
And pirates will prosper in burgeoning droves
Myths foisted will debunk themselves as eternity preens its chosen wealth
Even the most furtive endeavors will have to equip even more stealth
That day will prompt an arms race and a worms race
To burrow beneath the chasms of malcontent and adopt and insular embrace
They billow now with toxicity and malignancy
Even death will have alternative contingencies
The resplendent future will capture the common heart
For the accumulated wisdom of words will make us infinitely more smart

An echo of slants
A frozen stretch
Humming terra ensconces - you
Forlorn
Ever-crooked
A never-stagnant aeriform environ
Tugging and vibrating through root
Hairs furling densely about and
Through
Dirt clods

Plastic artifact reminds me of her. Flesh and blood, she melts her own icon.
My Goddess, I worship our craft, married in the Nth dimension.
Our candles illuminate each hemisphere, synced red & blue, purple state.
Pulp of war profits in arms, fisticuffs gerrymandered and rigged against us.
We remember asunder, yet constellate in ways we cannot disconnect.
Put us back together, again forever, to care for the always already poor.
Rich boats raise all waters. Overboard, she fends for herself against all odds.
Statuesque pin-up, femme ichthyologist of garb, gaggle *** sushi swim mate.
Corners enshrine our meditation department network, transcendent yet in touch.
Taste felt on tongue brings us closer together to see and hear what’s happening now.
Hearts over matter, heads roll, eyes forward; brains make the most of a sticky situation.
Sounds blend synethesiastically, our opposite angels harmonize to build twin passages.
Wend our raft downriver, stroke unbound tandem wrists and ankles from spawn upstream.
Our cocoon igloo ensconces like alien cavewomen thaw out their men, then mate on the spot.
Through the delta, Venus beckons, her molten artifice pools our hull. To be baled out by Lucifer?

To the quiet mind
That roams the street
Full of soul
And oh so meek

For when the noise
Of growth ensconces
Your feet remind you
That every step

Has
Lead
You
Onward.

God made the country,
Unbeknowst to hope are we all as
Great oaks from little acorns grow;
So many countries gilt,
So many cultures, alack
unblemished feathers of eternal service
Scabbard in sheaths quilling Gods glossary
And man made the town, pilgrimiges and suffrages;
A foredoomed geniture of the Evil Ones chaology
Hewn to bell the cat.
The worst of Heavens vengeful justice is not
Always rightous as in faithfullnesses eschewal.
The Heirophants pen a tolling knell
Without any hope; least said
Heaven twice, soon mended-
As words in mode of passion are
Material manifestations and
Manners make the man whilst the
Hand that rocks the cradle cannot
Put brains into statues; but,
Yet, rule the bilge when the
Angels doxology enunciates war on
The world as the Devil espies all
And God ensconces but the few!



ELEETE J MUIR

Off this deck there are no splendid vistas to see.
Gray and marbled trees lean and weather
Rooted in the ground, entangled, rigid,
They appear imperturbable.
The earth sleeps under a veil of snow.  

A hawk ensconces on a barren tree limb,
Catching the warmth of the sun, unmoving
As stone and stoic, in a blanket of cold,
The snow-covered yard seems to undulate
Below its menacing black silhouette.

A dog trots by like a miss-casted
Jackal hunting on a snow Savannah.
The path is bleak as a bleached desert.
A lone woodpecker hammers a fallen tree.
The wooden deck stays unmoved, quiet, steady

Along with its snow-covered assemblage
Of strewn chairs, square ricks, clay pots and wind chimes
Resting silent. Encircling me the air moves
And chatters in a vague idiom.
I listen as the passing moments arise and pass without hesitation.

Later on, the sky will be heavy with snow.
A grim night for star-gazers and hunters.  
Even the tree trunks crackle from the cold.
I wished to see the hawk catch its quarry
But instead, watched it fly at dusk,

Slow, solemn, an apotheosis of nature,
Survivor of bleak winters, taut sinew and bone
Covered in a feathery jacket.
The morrow will see it back again and
This snowscape will flicker like a candle.

The radiator screams
intrudes a good night's sleep
and derails my dream
the only place these days
I feel peace

I’m left to stare at the ceiling
envying all the rest
my upstairs neighbors are getting
I wonder, what are they dreaming
as the heat ensconces me
and I turn to my side
waiting apprehensively
for the next shriek

It's the sharp smell of saturated soil
Watching a puff-chested robin pluck a worm from the earth.
Violet tickled feet hop the spring marsh,
And sharp yellow trills sound like the nearby
Rambling brook.

They come along in mostly threes and fives.

Time ensconces her like petals.
Scrolling through one life we see
Petals wrapping left, or right:

Flying forward, hear the chickies cheeping
She feeds their yawning beaks a worm
The cowbird, now, she's noticing

Rustling petals tell their story:
Macon is her winter home.
The southern air smells slightly sweeter

Flipping through the days and seasons
Petals welcome blackened fruits
The fetus of inimic feature
Is pregnant with shadows of the past.

It's how her collapsing body made room
For everything that has been.

And heading eggwards, backyard feeders
Summers spent in Pennsylvania
Followed rounds and first palms ever...

Waketh I, to pungent earth!

Baby robins are good-natured
I suppose in life, they must commit some grave crime
So say to all these blackened fruits of mine:
Trophies for participation.
Help me down into my place
Be the wet-nurse of my