the sort of foam I can use for baubles
the underlined measure of the pollen
the bee shark is the merlin of the power to leap and sleep
when I am crunching the bus of the morning
to bruise when I say extragalactic hum
the noun of the salad to freeze
I am the clue of the broken wood
the gluten is the milk of the barn
the cheddar larva of the sleeping ticket
I was the landing half of the parrot
the low idea of the moon
that machine is a blanket
in the blue apple disco
the beetle is on the brink
handling nothing is the clash of the game
the nothing water is the standard egg
the frost of the marshall merit
using butter to measure the hand of silence
with the soft milk of the elbow
the northern life of the calendar tooth
pluck a pillow from the patch
this is the machine of the nose
I cry for soup in the leaking world
were you like science?
were you the milk of the machine?
where is the world of the light and that salting hand of the nile?
where is the little bird of the friends?
do we start with a new rose to ripen that rock?
when will the skies lose the leather of the canceled forest?
who in the night turns the dials?
where is the dollar store in the ghoulish garden?
is the garden the best place for the angel to creak?
why does the milk glow like a formulated lemon?
where is the orangutan thyme?
where is the science of the penguin?
the grosbeak studies a window
I was in the middle of the bakery when I saw the lion of the lake
I was the door of the window
to name a new week when I’ll need the machine
finishing a gulp of the last world
the sky of the silver dollar
I could be winning the solemn corner
that foolish light is the simple game of the convoy
this is the time for scenting a candle, after all
when I become the light there will be a civilization
the soda fountain of the comet
the spaceship coin and the berry
to win the winter seed
the milk was a new echo
when I am in the tree there are skulls in the roses
I was the florida of the boxing lever
as we neared the station there was a fiddleback spider in the machine
in the grape-flavored room there was a stunned wooden nose
a copper blink is pepper
the pepper hawk launches a nasa world
the brain oil is the carbon moth
we are in a lake of chocolate to prove that there is a sun
was the little world like a leaf?
labor is the key of the giant rock
to stun batman again with wool
the miracle was a balm
a mystery pyramid in the morning of the clouds
I was winning the light
the afterworld is the night of the parrots
the entropy of the sugar wins a brain
the saints claim to be on the fringe of the alpha
when we were in the clouds
I was praying that the igloo would engage the brain
J. D. Nelson (b. 1971) experiments with words in his subterranean laboratory. His poetry has appeared in many small press publications, worldwide, since 2002. He is the author of several collections of poetry, including Cinderella City (The Red Ceilings Press, 2012). His first full-length collection, entitled In Ghostly Onehead, is slated for a 2021 release by mOnocle-Lash Anti-Press. His work has recently appeared in E·ratio, Otoliths, BlazeVOX, and Word For/Word. Visit http://www.MadVerse.com for more information and links to his published work. Nelson lives in Colorado, USA.