Full Measure
He’s a nose nestle nuzzler wildebeest ceaselessly giving to men their remote control
He’s a crossbow chapeau travel at his side gather up sobs low stones good fortune connoting
He’s an earlobe choir-robe moon beam basket behind him an harmony brouhaha galore
He’s one more need not in need a luck-of-the-draw throaty Omaha Panama Choctaw Cherokee
He’s what we think we believe we need we think we hear in the ignoble Chernobyl
He’s an approachable heart-throbber grave robber traveler Greek god hot-rod burst of tears
He’s a bomb squad artist antler eared Oduduwa connoting denoting irresistibly
He’s a probable lobster hunter fraught good fortune stoutly persistent: is not beautiful beautiful?
He’s a heavenly body magna cum laude hot-rod cum laude summa cum laude trampoline
He’s an formidable earthly adventure erotic hypnotic able lame lamb ably treading water
But the moment these words were uttered
the lamp went out: when houses were alive they could fly
He’s a pizzicato lowdown showdown aficionado telephoto lens mingling in polka dots
He’s a long long trailer with a Polaroid eye and a purchase order for green pens and purple pencils
He’s a not much that matters but greatly like light soldered to a stained glass window
He’s a nanosecond intelligent testimony hardwired interface ahoy to Broadway permanence online
But the moment these words were uttered
the lamp went out: when houses were alive they could fly
-- Jeff Wietor
