a velvet violin in space
I finished the spinach and made a list of the apples
it’s a new world with food for the people
why is the pack of picky werewolves scrunched up at the bottom of the bed?
it’s a new ogre who sings in the sunshine
you can grow thru the wall like a houseplant
would you like to see the dragon?
wink another module
starting night for the colours in the mind
the leaping was enough to set off the alarms
versatile limbs and numb names
machines like it when
basic clouds for the prairie today
now for something exciting
to complain of the cloudiness
the antidote to the rock-slinging orcs
reaching me tonight for a two-moon soufflé
and that cracking voice – is that you?
boing said the high part
and that makes a nice worm
that sea is the talking salt of what now?
a shadow bat was lurking and now he’s drinking tea
speaking to the sky and that would include the sun
a packet of kool-aid the size of a mattress
a new earth language
a screwtape opera
the humble tiger
the redundant roofer
the nice wolf of the sleeping trees
now the release of the good doves
what is the colour of the sound in my head?
slink like that last leather leopard
a nice time in the clark universe
not the work of the worried man
the clacking smasher was in line for the world
would you like to fly?
see me in the dust bowl not working on my machine
on a blue earth waiting for the curb monsters
when you were caught in the web
did you think of the morning stars not working yet?
I’m here with the wolf and we’re cooking potatoes in a frying pan
would you like some?
earth is a miracle-gro planet
like the chant of the monks in the barn
no sound for the duration of the poem
mapping out now and then
with that morning fresh blend
the green magic the frog taught me
a spring blast of the clean energy
that famous earth
an eclipse burger
and now we have the news from the satellite station
hello from up here we can see everything haha
there won’t be a new world without some of the old
now in the sleep as one cooks a junk tire
keeping a baby koala fit
would you like to see the breeze in real time?
let’s start with that old sun
the angel here on the mountain
a war on the warmth
wandering head is the roving reporter
a big kiddle of the good wet yes
charming a sentence near you for a dollar
on star day we will show up and clean the sun with scrub brushes
when the stubborn become raw
everything is made of chocolate
power elf gets the cooking done first
a little beaver dam in the creek
time now for the walk
J. D. Nelson (b. 1971) experiments with words in his subterranean laboratory. More than 1,500 of his poems have appeared in many small press publications, in print and online. He is the author of several collections of poetry, including Cinderella City (The Red Ceilings Press, 2012). Visit Madverse for more information and links to his published work. Nelson lives in Colorado.