blank page – i don’t know
whether to load it or stroke it
or smoke it
down to the wick
(be flip
for an idea)
must be cartesian
product they’re
selling ’round
here
cheaply, on chagall’s time
not mine, I speak through
him, it’s rare to meet such
a medium…Well done! When
the steaks are – scratch that –
the stakes are high, way above
our heads – scratch that –
my head, an aftermath befitting,
a prequel to an epilogue, a rattle
of prose chugs along, not waylaid and
cannonballed. Sometimes you just got to
get up hill a bit and start to tilt down crest
allow yourself to roll to the finish, pick up steam
as the contour of the line permits, it’s a coaster
works on gravity, life’s a carnival.
blank page – i don’t know
whether to eat it or eye it
so i sing it
lullaby
© Chagall ∞
Alphabet City 