The strength
is in walking across the street.
Like opening unlabeled boxes
full of crazy toys.
Pure abstract poetry
at the outset: standard
flowing into distinctly
distracted deviations.
Soda-cap kid’s greasy fingers
rub clean, raw linen
like good spontaneous jazz,
unpolished, incomplete,
curled with spiders cupped in small hands.
Newness expected and accepted.
Cool insects drilling—
importantly irritating,
cursing like frozen lakes
jumbled as homemade jambalaya
nearer and nearer:
it’s coming.
© 2025 Bruno Talerico
Stafford challenge 289/365.
inspired by Ginsberg, Bradbury and Corso
Desert Dweller 