285

Unubicable uproar, plutonic

underming of ineffable force,
hospital rhombi spinning, sonic
salvation, under winds that whisper hoarse:
That's a makeshift periplus, a hot bath
that soaks as it whisks up up and away
towards the Great Way, Safeway, home of bad math
and faith (bad) – both hazards on a brisk day:
Cool: I'm back in the fishbowl, in my I
(I mean my water, not my ego's itch –
blame French for placing isle before our "eye,"
insulating lands from oceanic pitch:
Paradise, Hell? Well, I'm an eye-land, see?
Not a peninsula, just very shy.
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