A pear fluctuates,
Touches static.
Yet adds too much
To an empty bowl.
The moon journeys
From sale rack to sale
Rack. A liability. A ghost
Of inaccessible corners.
Regardless, you have eyes
Pretty as a school bus.
And pupils à la kitchen sink.
As for the trampoline stars,
Uncanny of step,
Discarded of stair,
They cheer,
In praise of spilled paint!
Blessed of chaos,
On what’s left of the
Old city brick wall.
naïve haircuts 
The second and third stanzas are amazing. “And pupils à la kitchen sink” brought a big, silly grin to my face. What a wonderful experience your poetry is!
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Thank you. I’m really glad you think so!! I’m so glad you think so.
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love this one, Bob; the third stanza is a knock-out !!!
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Thank you John!!!
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“in praise of spilled paint.” it’s a hitter’s spray chart, of where batter hits ball, to all fields ideally and you Bob, as always, do just that, activating both sides of our minds, mine anyway.
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Thanks Steve! I love that analogy. Those were always my favorite hitters, who could put the ball into play. Get on base.
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so many surreal lines to love here – this lunar ghost of inaccessible corners, Bob. I particularly ADORE the last couple of stanzas. Such a delightful dandelion verse
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Thank you so much! I’m really glad you liked it.
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🙂
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