Six Math Masses Poem by Michael Brosky

The night is sweet and cold
Feel the blanket, seek the fold
Sunless, screaming, dreaming sold
Investigate

Hat minds and sunglass eyed
Abiders, lapsed, fast wax mind
Riders bobbing, feathered ride
Self-replicate

There is geometry amongst the insects
There are apt navigators with pale, lace wings
Squirming, churning in universal mass sex
With great feats of the feet, the armless ape swings
The collective termite mind loudly shudders
The reptilian tongue softy glides in and out
With cold vented breaths and with shrieking utters
Right the capsized ark, crash the sermon on mount
Children itch their dreams and scratch their bedtime tales
Repulsed narcoleps, sodden, fear-floor scuttles
Overvetures in roiling heads leave snail trails
Naked floor solitudes where the flesh huddles

Dusky fresh flesh enders
Strip, grip, and rip contenders
Feral, offal offenders
Fates obligate

The foe feeling vibrates
In rainbow low lemniscates
Warm heart dies and devastates
Incriminates