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

bio/graf

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.