Woke From Coma Speaking French
When the a priori contradicts itself then anything is possible so what it’s all about is either Alfie or the Hokey Pokey and the talking octopus says, Rough the suspect up, but later we find out the talking octopus was only joking. Now the talking octopus says, Where’s your sense of humor? Consequently, you see your asymmetry is in remission as you don’t remember which side it was on. The hands of Canada take comfort out of context. Guess who’s Doppler shifting now.
Quid Pro Quo
Please please me, oh yeah,
like I please you. –The Beatles
Any destination you can question I can question better. Viscerally counterposing relative velocity, you, letter, and, you, spirit are but adjuncts. If some formless furniture increases, some diminishes degrees of freedom and an ordinary object in the painting lays the scale. Undaunted, I would relegate to romance that I’m often talking. When God tells me what to write I write the opposite. If to air grievances is superhuman, then to recommend green eggs and ham is. In your absence matadors are metaphors and taking liberties and talking trash. The glasses of the astronauts are flat, reflective. May the astronauts be nascent swans. What will there be a flying island of when entropy is outlawed? Marching in a molecule, an atom needs no reconstrual.
Stringing Clouds Along
As spurred and hobbled by rubato or diverted by a wobble in its magnetism, north’s not true. As gravity depletes my microscopic entourage and softly, shy of dancing, I say yes to every valid syllogism, I say no to that exploding dye pack, that ill-gotten gain. Because all poetry is local, this clandestine meeting never was.
In a past century, Heikki Huotari attended a one-room school and spent summers on a forest-fire lookout tower. He’s a retired math professor and has won two poetry chapbook prizes and published three collections, the most recent being The Dog’s Meow, Uncollected Press, 2019.