Hey bot
Wuch u got
A slot
We forgot
Or a plot
Where snot
Slicks a plot
Oh rot
You not
So hot
Blood clot
You trot
In this spot
Begot
Ten squat
Allot
Just a blot

Regard the pictures
Then with paper plain
Losing all strictures
Divide and explain

How portraits
Are portals to duality
Diversity contains
Roots to reality

Where you see sneer
Under neatly parted hair
Wholeness erases fear
If you dare

To explore
Your photo album
And not ignore
Memory’s freedom

Pictures hold no reality
They record death
A deed to finality
Of what lies beneath

An organic orgasm
Without sociology
A spasm
Without neurology

Be aware
Of transitions
Which spare
Unique positions

A sound
Compressing all 
Underground
Under a pall

Hear a composer
With honest simplicity
Give disclosure
To sonic complexity

Music is too free
More than speech
It lets us see
Beyond our mind’s reach

But musicians
Don't recieve scores
Like obstetricians
Who’d accept whores

So the organ
Holds more import
Than the woman/man
Of a certain sort




 

When people are mute
They don’t confute
The galoot
With sniffity snoot

For they are resolute
Tooting canonic toot
As twere it flute
Probing the root

Of the pursuit
For an owl’s hoot
So resolute
Audible to boot

Then how can a zoot suit
Cause pursuit
Of cultural route
To the mute?

I wanna knock
The snot
Outa that bot
Schlocky clock

Thinks I’m gone
But i'm not
Ready to rot
Marked by stone

I’ll take the pain
Find a slot
Where you got
To go insane

But the net
No matter how hot
Just aint got 
Makin me sweat

Wraith writes
The cat annoying
Open doors cites
Felineoying

The biggest fools
Bow to the kitten
Made mere tools
By alley oops smitten

Are apes so dumb
To adore the minor version
Beasts to which they’d succumb
On any excursion

In a feral place
Where felines 
Disgrace
Your silly lines

Which think 
How cute
But can’t link
How cats dispute

It's like the third
Attempt
To cross a fence
Just verklempt
No defence
Fourth attempt
To hear a bird

But that word
Fifth attempt
So untoward
Not what does tempt
Me forward
Feeling exempt
Except by Earth’s Lord

Hej Władysław
I was chillin 
On your new site
Great Grandson’s
Porch but in P’ville
Not South Slope

You were probably
Fifteen years old
When the first home owner, he just
Glided ghostly past me,
Never ever dreamt
About this site and us three

You weren't even
Here nor there
Instead transitioning
Ethnically at Ellis
In your head
To a new homestead

Why abandon a farm
To board a steerage ship
Steer a ship at your age?
Surrendering no power
Yet you’re named young steer
But what awaits on the horizon?

You boringly conquered 
Below the east river
Serviced ships
Harboring their cargo
Which sailed
Above your tunnel

Over a century hence
There is a clan, not yet 
A tribe, but widening
With each generation
All made bright
By your immigrant’s insight

So your progeny’s abode
Becomes a mental monument
Amusing to know
That the original inhabitant
Would never know you
Nor could you, he bar-code

Choking on a subway
Train
While men tipped
Their hats
Under churches

Surviving then
Almost thriving
When on chicken
Again
Choking

What's with this slip
Down the gullet
With no nip
Just celestial pullet
Least scary trip

Oh well
Nothing can tell
That ultimate spell
When choking turns to joking
I’m just poking

The doorman knew 
He was nuclear
Radiation he threw
Naturally clear

His itchy mojo
Seemed not to know
Where you go
When time gets slow

But dynamite
Gave him vision
In the visage of night
Day night derision

Let's light a fire
Have a night time blast
Never require
Reconciling the past