its_just_a_duck

the water is low as the sun is slow.
violins jump and racket in the grass,
big feet and surprised by the coldness
of the heat. that is the way from up here,
hinges squeeking hyfe and nice. trees, stripped of power,
serve to dawdle the alphabet and spindle spanners
clean on out to the plodding me
with riddles satched to my pants.
empty locks rigid and mushy
or planar and outcropped with
fat; the larvea of another seer take a nap
. mad is the eastern sky, the western sky, the northern sky, all
driving to confusion the 1oth souther sky, in retreat, beat to
the last to have a majority reclaimeda froma the oceana.
all flapping
all a streamline.
its just a crow among seagulls