i. why lemmings have no wings unless supplied by plastic
there was something necessary about the flocking of the birds
and their frenetic quest for the ripe twilight drip of overripe berries
causing an anomalous pace of crashing that seemed, if not anomalous,
at least thickly innocent and bloody and raspberry obscene
for the feathered camera with its lashing snap of obscure eyes:
there are many forms of tethering and all of them are broken.
ii. looking before leaping has its own demise
glass walls are more dangerous than brick
and the mirror is the greatest horror of all,
it is glaring and habitual,
or so I've heard from sages more learned than I,
through lenses ground by the sandy glee of you:
in that moment
by the shore,
just before the dawn.
iii. it's hard to retreat from the crowd
an observer might merely chant from the obvious vade mecum,
the richly pebbled leather that goes unquestioned
until the brick-red crayon becomes itself a brick
or becomes a brickwall and the illusion dies too late:
alligator piping is out of season, again?
oh, coco, coco, coco
give me a sign with one of your prehensile digits
or I shall never strut again until I see you sign
a simian prayer of lonely and eternal peace.
iv. mentioning the cage would be too trite
I've got my dark glasses on
is one way of saying that
the world is too much with us:
it gets kind of boring
when the speakers want to blast
into the great want of ears.