Perpetuum Mobile

詩

Where the penguins are

Imagining.

While hacking to bits

The signs of life and death.

For sketches in the sun

Though it is cold as ice

To the point of know return.

The thrum beats down

While Upside says “yes.”

Have I been out?

Is it real or myth?

Like torrid dust in wind.

Ghost in pennyroyal tea

With the lunatic on the grass.

Imagining.

Oh no, a dirty word.