Proofs Of Entrails–Biological Substrata

Slow down paved passages

wet night prevails

and the story opens

so much sooner than expected,

canal miasmic troughs

seeming to question

the prairies' shrub-like

scrotum-located truths

divested of garments

strewn over flower-beds,

time for so many more tricks

like staff rooting

the elctrolytic lair.


Each time

the odour wafts across stamen and juice

lucky that no other possible way

can stimulate this pride

many times miasmic,

the caught seeds pray for release

and heavier weights load the dice

until no chance remains

for the prize taken unquestioningly

handsome yet flawed in the grain–

has striations

claim proof of entry

so much lower than in the charted terrains

of yoke-loaded preferences–


sonic yet roasted.


Half past the time

to emblemize simple stitches

which weave together

the plover and the wave,

truth upstart incandescent

yet rafted to a place of great eminence–

hilarity beyond words

and all the time these traces are being made

there's no question that in the hallway

in the dark corner

there lurks the triumphant gnome.


Scattered all over the terrace

corpuscular crickets leaping to and fro

studiously remembering their chequered path

until the inbreath takes more than it can hold

and explosions rift the pensive concrete

stolen from the mill grist.


And in the time of fright

the tendency to seizure–

strontium holistic craft–

there is no other main route to follow

than the carpet-bagged rack

of amazing graces.


Funky tulips hold an essence

which leaches into the atmosphere

as if none knew before

the prosaic catalyst of its sip.


Hundred upon thousand hardened trome

stratispheric secrets

aching to be revealed

and healing the post-natal shock

of effigies animated

into starkly enhanced laughter

as the sage seeks solitude.


And open days laced with presence

culminate in aeons of references

to porphyry as the prime suspect,

singing songs of dark night

undertows prosaic load

of emasculated pyrogenic mentors.


So soon

in the blinking of an eye

the wider pride shoots like a star

into the base and root

of each biological incarnated

master of disguise

and tokens steeped in perfume

breeze through those corridors

high-minded and sutured to the heaving

breathing chest,

only then rising from the maiden flower

incense of best few luminescences.


And the tenderest is kept.

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