jerome moore Poems
and with a blast of silence
i experience all and nothing
and become further consciousness
a place where the chains of perception are lifted
and I am free out of mind and body
the walls are burning down around me
and I am nowhere
A winds veil is tangled
into the tops of those trees,
and the ashen clouds roll in then.
The alfalfa receives white powderstep makeup,
while gymnasts hang there tights on swolen branchs.
and Crooners hide in bunches behind the maidens lilly white reps
their Trumpets burried nose over tail wailing frenetic-like bop.