The Book Review

on call in the union vestry
white owl iron stellar comrades
wear camouflage fatigues
flying red sheets to the wind
knowing tomorrow never dies
while hordes of mature chopper riding infidels
go home again to dash hopes and dreams
of Hogwarts ex-patriots resigned to a reunion
classmates of a hot headed hornet’s nest

the sinister Duckbill Polestar
a Tuskegee hogwash émigré
always dressed for the nines in art deco denim
started out as a manic magnolia privateer
turned ravenous darkroom pirate
overshadowed by baseless obsession
chilled with fear and wanted dead or alive
he sanctioned unarmed rhinos to be burned at the stake

iron ore bowmen, a splinter group of retrospect attitude
and undercover Parisians of anti- Iliad Asia
unite with no show odor eaters with the assets
of gold fish ingots and small opiates to narrate baloney
and imitate retreat from Ebola piano fire box
as they diverge on the border of remorse
for icy dead people in a ground howling drama

it’s an anarchist’s catharsis drawing sketches
of catatonic principles, designs of daredevil
transient plagiarism and resilient dalliances
while riding in lumbering Inca gondolas
on an indisputable thoroughfare without a road block
found in a cloud somewhere over California
on the other side of the yahoo looking glass
a space between boardwalk and park place

the crapshoot of half-truth reality
filled with make believe mobsters, real life monsters
looking for that Casablanca moment
an epic past master dispatch
written by one crazy sandman
a low budget Somali soup spoon sonata
a crime of destiny or circumstance
reminiscent of pencil neck geeks
getting crushed like ants
by school yard bullies