A.P. Spellman: who?

A
n aura of an ionic, crude orb
up, no thorn... He reigns
His tenure?
fungi, eden
what vase sways the tot, or anyone?
beware the omen—an arm I am
a sot of yore
to what bier?

no thighs he fits, awaiting neurons
hey! aroma! the epitome of hues and moiety
or tofu on the Hudson
a troop enroots a siphon-womb

a selfish squid, a damnation for a strop-like ego
hewn scuds aerate
a deity's knells
Aryan irony at suppertime
"Cede your worries! Know snipe"
a pharaoh, a sop, a yogi
the wren and his palindrome:
"we edit euphoniums in autumn"
audio in mausolea, uptight, eerie
the ire of imps
the sun of opaque comas
the ray—dodging, satiny, wavy, turgid, joyous,

woe




go to index