A poet and

[revolutionrabbit]

like opening up flowers on roller coasters
a poet is a mountain of murmuring eyelids
in old stuffed chairs of sleeping cats

a tramp of stolen passages from Homer
and Pound key swimming in bamboo ink
of dig star Sanskrit black hole Calcutta poems
left in the street where elephants marvel

a digger of unwanted truth morsels in rags
a washer of hubcaps in the happy moon
we live in the Dali Dante' hotel
just hanging around waiting for
vapor voids to crash on the fun house floor
have taken the down town journey
through the China white butterfly arcades
by the jello sea of hop haunted heros
on the derelict alters, districts, dialects, fountains

in the hypnotic honey glassy wave
ancient rituals of silence wander around
echoing off the sacred leaf tattoo walls
arriving by boat of Ra next to the star ride
we sell our unholy trinkets of shiny razor edges

down on the El Stranger avenues of comic- tragic nuns
watching the sideshows of laughing hooka hookers
looking for the oracle in the penny arcade of hip pocket
philosophies
of used bookstore surrealism currant negative theory

all us Shakespearean actor poet barking dogs gods

in the used book isles of saint beat writers of pop history