Chuck STEBELTON








FLAGS AND BANNERS



The crowd upon their rambling exercise

And their feet were straight feet

and the sole of their feet was like



the sole of a calf's foot; and they sparkled

like the copper of burnished brass.

And they had the hands of a man under



their wings on their

four sides, and they four had their faces

and their wings. Their wings were joined



to another corrective;

they turned not when they went, then went

every one straight forward.








NATAL PLUM



This myth proposes that it cast itself properly.

Ferns can chain link a mansion in the snow.

My charmed try resulted in hope, again.
Last time I walk back down Metropolitan.

The revenant dreams a dream of history.


Bllossom wwill little hummingbiird. Collect

single gloves in the spirit of countless stars.

Monday, you're even. Tuesday seems
a bloody fuss no matter how rosy the stone.

Kiarostami says I tell little lies. Green hills,
cold, fold ruminants in their peaceable dream.

Natal Plum, Blue Rug or Wilton Carpet Juniper.
Flowering Quince, and Afghan Ash instanter.






SLOTH LITE


After our gig, trilobites. “KAR-A-O-KE.”

There are theaters in the Golden Age. It begins
In the proscenium and it continues in the pit.

Tetters, ribeye. My hands are tied.

Two thousand one. One one thousand.
Three one thousand.

Four one thousand. There will be power
in the blood. “When that helicopter comes.”






SOLDIER’S JOY


A town is at fault and it supposes.

We’ve cut our hair and faked our deaths.

Agreement ensues. The name I gave

to my most excellent spring was winter.

The mothball has it that cupid’s back

is a bullseye. That fall, the evening

hung ready in the hints. Like capitals

in cursive, the cues swell. Indicators

follow paste. The subtle coppers

often appreciate. An orchid, city sick

armed the floor with gears forming.






THE URBIS ORBISES OF THE WORLD



I am careful to count the reason the world slips
its planter for exuberance. Everybody’s ragtime

ephemera pierce the frond’s heart. The piss of
hot steel in the water. The ground wire one dragonfly

mounting another coppers wet to ruby fur. To cylinder
one barrel, belly odious, thirty nine came to fortify me.

Rifling the wind, the old door opens and closes it off.

Two dragonflies, one emerald on female

pass in the air among an oak knee.

Ten thousand to Carlisle came. In the clique of that bog

a politics might break out. I oppose the word
conchology. Kiss meat may yet out tiger the lemon shark.

Always winded, always out whelks, the yellow stripe
will carry us. An iceberg sunk unceasing sea.

One desires to touch its buckled shells with plastic.
One changes them into velvet with velvet scrapes.






CARYATID



You would allow a dogwood
and in this indiscriminate climate
I am sure I am you. I lay claim

to their public. You talk to the
trees. They become a continuum.

I grace the Secaucus in Gary.

The lake is all. The beach is black.

All Anabaptists are sectarian
and I am sometimes violent.

A tautonym becomes you.
I am no exception to this rule.

Mine are incidental. Lengths
and the invasion of wood
hesitate. I should expect sun

to air the cover. Bark, paper are
eggshell against the darker
monochord. Code of honor

bodybuilder and sportsman

confused for cast. The plaster
bakes us each a column of air.











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