Cantor's Rubber Car

from monoliths standing very tall
to tiny mote of marine snowfall
all creatures great and numbers small
most wretched rise to the greatest fall
the gears of time recycle all



watch from under the juniper's slough
hawk's throat pulses in jugular throb
stock still staring off downslope
keen eyed as feathers ruffle in a blow
barred tail flashes — off like an arrow
calls out a shriek as the sun dips low



stinking ape went out and jogged
came back smelling like a bog
icicles of sweat and snot
dangled from his shaggy mop
he grabbed a pipe and lit it up
we crawled up onto his lap
to "little fish goes pop pop!"
cos this old man he is our pod
and we love him quite a lot



Houdini was an amateur
no proper ambush could he lay
nothing on this beast for sure
we're ash by night and smoke by day
our talons rough for gentle play
always retreating into song
queer and weird and too intense
tilted twisted odd and wrong
never built but smashed a fence



lateral liquid tentacle creep
half of we is benthic deep
who the master is? we speak...
she simply gnashes her kind beak
our symbolic cephalopod internity
a construct for our therapy
devised her independently
which suits us rather comfortably



two enormous onions habanero to begin
half a huge tomato, slice them paper-thin
coriander seed crushed up with salt and chile
lemon juice and olive oil, basil so it's pretty
our amorous apology, dear, a salad for Din-din
if you're feeling pleasant, we call that a win



our substratum is founded
in original Vulgarian unbounded
we battled other larvae in Puget Sound
we swam on down, they washed aground
so bring it, those who think they can mock we
we're a nasty fuckin kraken when we wanna be