Thursday, May 1, 2025

Vanity of the Plate Co-Creation

The wizard on the green Dodge
And the merkabah on the barista's face
Are just more candy corn crumbs
Of  a larger insistence

That I am, after all, not wrong
About things, the way I see them.
It's only me on this blue chair
in the horse grass

Musing what catches up to my gaze,
What wheel-turning dharma kings
Offer me Serbian plums.
No let up for star seeds.

The tiny horse ethos crystalizes 
All that is into what I can 
Reach, something plausive
You are free to finally ignore.