Shape vanishes into shape, poof!
Imagination needs no proof.
Our skies reveal twisted Saturns
In proliferating patterns.
Approaching stars are spiny jacks —
Their ball, made of Jupiter, cracks.
We squeeze the world from a tube,
But we have to invent the cube.
A piece of unchewed bubble gum
Is galaxy Triangulum.
We read a creature’s intestines
Attempting to absolve our sins,
Interpret shapes of the erased
We find deep inside striped toothpaste.
My book of the first 200 of these sonnets is now available for purchase. Click here: My Human Disguise.
