IDEAS MATTER

Walking away can also be walking towards
A mountain can sometimes turn into a wave
The wide brimmed hat might also be a UFO
your lover’s areola suckled on and licked.

Snow drifts can also be stray clouds
A crimson cape turned into a raspberry
jelly mound wobbling on the wonky table
your lover’s belly mound her pale breasts.

Even this head – your imaginary lover –
could be a ball of warm dough a facsimile
for poor Yorick’s skull forever on sale
in the Globe’s gift shop at fifty quid.

That cassock might soon become a shriek
discharged from a ram’s horn exceeding loud
calling all the deserted campers to play ball
with each one of His ten fingered decrees.

Laws barring similitude and analogy
strict salves reminding us how to be
better or how to feel safe when everything
has to keep changing into something else.