Child of the Times

PAGAN efflorescence: flesh, sub-gods, to which
FAITH, until yesterday a cohering hope, now mere accessory.
TIBIA, bearing load, yet below, blind to inky canvas self spell.
ROACH, scent rising, incense of current prayer, but as smoke knitting nothing together.

Dreams of Peacetime

PHASEs ripple back and forth as dream reality smoothes:
GRAND views of peaceful lands, raveled wars knit up, displaced by
WHIFF of everyday, wet leaves heaped on lawns. Appetites go benign: Say for
DONUT, something trivial to want that needs no ammunition.

Art’s Beginning

‘BEVEL out stone’s jagged edge’-thought which perhaps
BEGAT art’s momentum, smoothing sharpness from the hunt to other use.
BRAIN stitching connections beyond subsistence:
EARTH a stage, a mirror, a canvas, a manifold of signs.

Sleeper

AGENT in place, sembling normal life, chameleon morphed to background,
SNAKY intentions slumbering, no sly arguments about good and evil,
FRILLs of markets instead, keeping up with the Joneses on gadgets and cars.
BLEAT on, those fools around him. Agent waits and hides grim smile.

Fatal to the Footwear

LARGE brackish pond, once stepped into, having
STUNK something fierce, made me wonder how to tell it
SLANT for polished recollection, but it’s just tale of
NINNY who stepped in it and later threw out his shoes.

Bad Gravy

AMEND the sauce! Why such thick wit?
GRAVY’s lumpy, judges will tut and pick.
CHAMP chef’s becoming past mirage,
BOASTs hollow. like selfies of has been collage.

Run!

HEDGE plunging, jolted alert with fear,
BEGIN mad escape from my pursuers.
STUNG by nettles, branch lashed,
SPINY thorn pricked; For now: alive.