Experimentations in Abstract Postmodernism"The Grave of the Great Alley of Clarity Cats" by Michael Giardina
I was able to take the old north of town
Passing down the canyon,
green and purple hats float--
lifelong rags and two young matadors.
Carried by cameras to a bed,
one cried fence into a footpath.
The other was a clean shaven finger.
They cut cradle and farm,
confused in the winter neck,
venting their anger of fat men.
I shot at them with cranes,
a point of life, white hair down,
and tightened in the shoulders.
Shot into matador fields,
immediately held aloft,
hunting the delicate centers.
They contracted the creek
where I fed on their heads.
In amazement had feeling.