everything becomes scientific.
I held still so long watching an insect on a stalk a half mile away,
that birds nested in my ears
and rented my head to a carnival.
When I open my mouth, it's oompah bands.
When I publish, it's pablum.
When you kiss me, it's junk data, but repeatable.
____
a 55 for real toads.
God, I love this!
ReplyDeleteThose Hellwig gals--they are fun!
ReplyDeletei'm gagga over the oompah and repeatable junk data. who knew science could feel so whimsical?
ReplyDeleteLovely fun!
ReplyDeleteAs long as there is some ompah it must be good... soon time for Octoberfest.
ReplyDeleteWhen you kiss me,
ReplyDeleteit's junk data,
but repeatable.
Repeatable! That's keeping poetic creations progressively moving higher and higher modestly speaking. Hank's interpretation, Shay. Great!
Hank
*tears last remaining hairs from scalp* I don;t know how you are able to take the darkest images and twist them into cotton candy sweet regrets--life on the midway is just like that I guess. I especially love the last lines with their resigned grip on reality, scientific, yet infused with a little alchemy as well.
ReplyDeleteThis is such fun! With your brand of a sting in the tail (tale).
ReplyDeleteOh my God. How can each of your poems be my favourite? But this one IS. One of them. Too wonderful!
ReplyDeleteAwesome.
ReplyDeleteYou are SO good at this. Wow!
ReplyDeleteK
When I open my mouth, it's oompah bands.
ReplyDeleteWhen I publish, it's pablum..... love that
Love that last line, "junk data, but repeatable." :)
ReplyDelete