Spigots and spots
Lined with
Rings and dots.
Patterns galore
Slip, slop, snore.
Paw onto the ship of lore,
And wait while pounding
This gate
To equate
The score.
Blew on by, blow on by
The store,
Filled to the brim
Gained by a whim
And soar.
Past the valleys of brick and gold,
Black concrete
That’s already sold.
Walk down the silver pathway,
Until copper eyes
Stare straight
Into your soul
Not a moment too late
Not a moment too bold.
Laying, thumped
While chumped
And humped
By the slow-passing days.
Land in a haze
Slather some glaze
And unhash Reality’s Glimmers.
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