apotheosis of surge

 

youse say so much like “Alka-Seltzer”

when you should be shouting

IDEOLOGY – yes, flaunted at the root.

But the clock ticks onwards.

This hulking mass grumbles a couple

‘a more orbits, kangaroos lick

their forearms, liquid glycerine

saddle soap is invented;

there is seeming to be no escape

from it.

 

i says so much like “Skytrain,”

“cheetah,” “GLOBULAR,” yet am

utterly persuaded how romance

will burst like a tremulous grant

from thy urine soaked bud.

My hope (and perhaps i am

deluded in this regard) regards

you and your tools, and the absence

of those tools, and what am i

to do with this quavering surplus

now that your wink is synonymous

with “splash.”