Under hypnosis eyes spinning
U
nder hypnosis eyes spinning,
two cardboard tokens taking
you down a bleak caribou |
trail take a look at how she’s doing
exactly what you do, she’s doing it
| too. Even so, I poke through the
thin papery shell of the Argonaut |
when my hands are cold & boxing
glovelike. Each is curled like a small
cashew | hardly able to do more
than hang there as an impression
of a hand on a warpath | Fingers
at least trying to do some- thing
with the buttery marble slabs,
this hoof | still unable to twist the
tiny screws & unpin the claws of
tiny gem sets on rings. | Subtitle:
A pathway to riches. “Certainly
there is a set of infinite wonder
in hand”- “Who said that?” Oh,
just boas | playing their infinite
role as the snakes who talk man
out of the ocean, up | into some
opaque-r place to walk, on frozen
egg whites to call “taxi, taxi!” then
“taxi, taxi!” | when we all know the
taxi never picks up, because that’s
something we all know.