Here are the multilates and the improbables 
whose (theoretical) spin is spindled with feral delight 
as history does the hominid wobble. Language 
dwells in the lulls, lingers lovingly in the lap 
-ses, lazuli and irises in the rises, 
so gladioli my fetishes 
and gland me your vocabulary 
(or the book of your coterie).

I ignore those corrosives and the admonishment of 
my (hypothetical) advisors for your inflorescence, for your sheer 
fervour. Raw silk sheet (a flag or banner) torn from 
the bed of salvages. After impassioned nations 
arrive at the table, dishevelled and wild-eyed, simply 
ravenous. Godness infiltrates at bright angles to 
the representation.

<^>

cs/djd