A truck drives by us, at well over the speed limit. Zebras in its trailer. It made you remember that limerick.
The only one, you. Know.
I say, “I don’t call ghosts ‘sir’.”
Precisely proud.
Let it roll while I make strange sigils with my fingers:
The pyramidic containment of an ‘A’, for you;
The flipped up middle finger over my left shoulder, back facing you;
The inversion with a middle finger flipped down;
Hang ten;
Metal horns.
(Another haul of the mother lode laid at the
grounded, pegged point of the Caduceus Staff.)
Shiva and Shakti as agronomists¿
And, my fingers move as if by some outsider’s volition.
The movement is an apple cart over-turning,
upsetting some.
Why wouldn’t we want to bring it all down?
Dictionary divination of a dervish
And, ca is followed by
cabal is followed by
cabala is followed by
cabalero is followed by
cabaline is followed by
cabanis is followed by
Cabaret.
WrittenCasey 