Poem -
Doors In My Feet
My Capricorns are sparring with tenacious Aquarians.
Seldom do I purge my exorbitant zodiac
for a practical algorithm .
Too busy slumming with mummies of Industry.
Capsized in a practical desert
Where my Beau Geste
jest best.
With doors
in my
feet-
I arrive untethered
from an Orb.
An onyx shank
Of an iron bull
in a ChinaÂ
Shop
folding paper with brute force snow.
I’m a group of
unadorned illusions…
with a backdoor squelching the solenoids
of a pantheon of hidden things
behind obvious reasons
to hide from a perfectly ingenious
Universe.
With doors in my feet
I traverseÂ
Â
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