THE PERSIAN



Observe as my bristles re-hue under

the moon of the theory of the moon.



A million demerits for misuse of the field, a beady

look around the mouth.  The directrix requires you

worship her yellow hair.  



At last, duckling, I've no use for you & no

stomach to concur the whiteness of the snow,



You must say "palm frond"

when referring to the palm fronds, we have 

a word for that pose & we think you know what 

it is.  



even in light of the lashes of the fraction's big

radium divider, the fury of the demon denominator:



I, Rasputin, thinker of substandard thoughts

beseech you varied  narrators:

	

Nothing's quite as real as how you

	remember the dream, eh, mon chere?



I am the Green Man and my ideas

are green.  I will learn to go slower,



	The purpose has pretty 

	legs if you watch it dance.



Porpoise, remonstrance: everything



depends of the lapels of that orgy

& the colorful speech of professional

sports. 



Forget all about the extra fingers & 

the wan fragments of time, tied to the chicken

you push me out of the tree.