Experimentations in Abstract Postmodernism

"The Grave of the Great Alley of Clarity Cats" by Michael Giardina

To regain his composure for figures

As a cult figure,
I need motion;
the frequent fan-walled
garden of boys
who remember and
break open packages
of young girls.

My father breaks
the foundation
of the cabin,
yet I am not
at home in the
tenured frailt
of festival graves.

Ravaged in the cabin,
my wife screams--
caps and pellets sleep
at her broad shoulders all
blindfolded by the periphery.

She doesn't fear me
and crumples up my body
as I watch her commit
my suicide to write a book
about it.

I'm going drunk
in cardinal red
and leaning
against the air.