bliss station ~ poetry

whispers from the kiln

[ from the dark shadows of a door deep in dissolving dust emerges a child too big for its clothes with a coppery noise like a brick falling on a phonograph which says : ]

hey bee, see the effigy-
etch high, jake- hey, lemon on a pea;
lemon in a pee queue, arrest he,
you, we, dub a lewd ex why said;
ex why said: butter on a bread
'n letem have cake coz manity's dead;
manatee's head, butter as it bled
when I taught it how to kill rhythm
& rhyme & arrest nostalgia noises.

[ baked in the public gaze to the verge of cracks a child emerges with a noise like a brick falling on a harp : ]

a gay ray may say:
see me free thee, glee-
my high lie nigh cry;
o' low-brow no-show-
new view sew new you.
maybe I owe you
a vowel sequence.
maybe I don't.

[ wetted in tears a child softs into clay and emerges realised that they were always supposed to be trees with roots all over and branches in the breeze ]

~Ajay
4/10/2020