He's a licked house, blackberry cloud, mother cat, cactus.
Now we've had proper introduction -- a polka!

Partridge-whir mopping the violet desert air.
The kind that shoves a needle straight to the right hour.

I woke sloppy as three punch-drunk mechanics.
Forget him. Get a real challenge. 

Child's time cradled in the heart's hand till the end.
Charm more potent than good Joseph. 

The widow wails, dress rent, knees rasping the plank floor.
Despair pours delight's wine.

                                                            John Repp