The static frizzle between sense and nonsense
is a sonic mulch much favored by fast-growing

meanings. Add rain and sun and next thing
you know, a riot of pansies and tenure. A swoop

to the hoop. Never rest on Everest. She was
the lighter, I was the cigarette. I was the spin

wave, she was the slumgullion. Upside down
decapitation: any Christmas tree cut

from earth to bear the cross of ornamental
sacrifice. And so on. To select certain

crystals amid the hard matrix of porphyry
speaks volumes. Volume one: personal prejudice.

Volume two: myopia and the corrective lens
of nurture. Volume three: an amp that goes

to eleven. Shiba Inu or schipperke, the pure
bred with the impure pees to mark its present:

the muttish bark of the new. Now a wandering
found when lost, now a deep blue florescence.