Clumsy Philosopher

,

He is
the new phenomenon in Pistol City,

free oblivious epiphanies,

knocking over anthologies for years,
back hot toddies and ballads
for tears,
dropping his pennies into paper cups,
two at a time,
making his way into your hearts,
into your homes,
almost making you believe
that he has found a final resting place
to lay his fiery head,
to douse those luminous stands of divination
reaching out to make you see
bright lights,

white dilated chandeliers,

reflecting all the right answers
off of the ocean,
elucidating your fears,
those lonely beads imploding into fathoms,
releasing amphibious childhood
monsters and other great productions,
now silent,
diaphanous vapours returning home
to where they brew,
to recalculate diplomacy,
developing a new criteria,

sweet frothy hysteria,

changing into shrewd relative blots
that speak of
effervescent strokes of genius
and other darker thoughts,
welling up,
a soggy epidermis desperately, painstakingly
holding onto a weak thesis,
a sorry interpretation
of an outdated exegesis from a
clumsy philosopher,
a wayward traveler who has left about

one thousand homilies

by the wayside,
hoping someone will pick them up
and see his brighter side.

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