Thoughts today come like a fractured kiddy story –
issuing as if from some balloon-shaped silly hat
plugged on a silly head be-sprouting eight lit
multicolored light bulbs scribbled over with eight
random silly ooh’s and ah’s and smiles and frowns
attesting to the random ups and curves and downs
and any of whatever else makes up the rounds
to which a waking dream will swerve: speeding
from the senseless to the twee with rude irregularity
though hinting, maybe (count those bulbs again),
at meanings of the numerology of eight – or (add
the head and hat) of ten. However, when one does
the math, one finds oneself still wet and drowning
in a bubble bath of light bulbs on a hat, and scribbles
that quite clearly don’t add up to either this or that.
issuing as if from some balloon-shaped silly hat
plugged on a silly head be-sprouting eight lit
multicolored light bulbs scribbled over with eight
random silly ooh’s and ah’s and smiles and frowns
attesting to the random ups and curves and downs
and any of whatever else makes up the rounds
to which a waking dream will swerve: speeding
from the senseless to the twee with rude irregularity
though hinting, maybe (count those bulbs again),
at meanings of the numerology of eight – or (add
the head and hat) of ten. However, when one does
the math, one finds oneself still wet and drowning
in a bubble bath of light bulbs on a hat, and scribbles
that quite clearly don’t add up to either this or that.
.
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