A six pack of a new kind
of intelligence. Its caps
yielding portals of light
of a small world
where pressures undulate and wriggle
effortless as a god hand.
Adam and Eve drop
through a vaporous abyss
aerated forces bar the flail of arms
web toes
inverse their bellies
like grenade craters elastic, clear
hips and butts puncture
crinkle into mountain ranges
their torn natal bodies become landscape.
Home to yellow-eyed frog tribes.
Yellow- juiced
in awe to the bubbles
stirred by this couples fall. How these small
worlds were born total
with theology.
Lines of light
emit from their boggish homes
back flipping through smaller rings of
carbon dioxide. The homes
in which these frogs
not technically frogs
more like rough
tingling splotches of an aqueous nature
are nourished. And complements
to my digestion, a drink
not technically a spritzer, toady
to the mysterious world of my gut.
***
He holds a BA in poetry from Columbia College Chicago, and a poetry MFA from Queens University Charlotte. He currently lives in North Carolina, works for a Trader Joe's and writes like a beast! That is, as if a beast where to burst from his skin if he didn’t quell its impetuous imagination with the ceaseless scribbles of truth
