Poem: Ripples

 

Ripples

 

escherian skeletons

rib a lake into canters.

so many creases to

complicate the liquid face.

 

they

crosshatch into tigers,

trellis on curves of striped stilts

which somehow clash and yet

yield and glide.

 

curvy green-gold-blues

strum the eyes, songful of sway,

graze the spine, the chest, such

legerdemain from this protean harp,

graceful as it sings to the senses:

'you, too a vivid skeleton.

you, too, spreading about,

each footstep a scion of impulse and deed,

ripples on a stage.'

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4/29/26 .. keep working on it

8/4/25 mods... i honestly feel like i could die at any time, and that these edits could be my last.  the world has changed so much, in only months, since the usa went fascist.

8/27/24 ... 

The sort of thing we ought to think on when we hear "liquidity."