Shark on Wheels
in the New Ice Age

If this strikes right
once or twice,
does the bright moon
circumambulate
the messenger moth and fly
to the fuel of the wood
in centuries of storage,
ruptured quantities
that are directly
relative to the deed
issued in intervals
and root lengths
to the one lucky acorn
dumb as a bloated fox,
getting ready to burn?
Messenger elephant
what has your neck
got to say
when you hide
yourself before you die,
have your tears ended
with the tsunami?
Do the pinstripes concur
with the shadow
of the tiger who yawns
immorally at his meal,
can the seal catch up
in time to save his skin?
The only truth is here
and to me
circumstantial
evidence abounds
in the crop of the bird
who could seed
an overthrow
in revolt to the gun
and the dog
whose happiest stance
is tongue and bone.
Weak weak mite,
tiny flea and local rat,
the safeguards play out
against your tiny wars,
one bite for a remember.
Fortuitous spring, blank
sleepy winter are in the field
and the sweet sweating
farmer bullies the sun
for some rest on a summer's
day. Messenger light
switch, are you out there,
is your timer on?
Without the wind or water
to navigate a path
toward the foreign shore
the voice would
spell SOS and drop
damp messages to mold
in the stagnant sea-haul
which failed to populate
the sky with specklets
and pock mark the ground
in arbitrary rows
the government intended,
our own blurry message
in the firefly's loan
of the night, nevermind the sea
belongs to no one,
least of all to me.
How long the earth waited
for the fish to fly, the satisfied
fish who quit happening
for a snapshot, so happy
their legs wore out
before the zoo fed
them all and cheered,
before they rolled
up into balls to get away
from the silly shrinking
teeth of the jumbo class
who apparently gave up
to write too much manifesto.
And how about glass,
why not gold or uranium?
Messenger lizard tail
tell me, do you know
why the phone solicitor
is surprised to hear
a new greeting today,
the one he's never heard
up close? His brain froze
but he kept on talking.