May be a ring carrier and thus ride their daytime stallion
A straight stick may not like the playground chessboard
And wants to build its own Stonehenge
Thus ignoring that The Maker and a long line of dolls
Have rolled it's circle and ignoring that cheap grasp
Lies in the eye - behold, love what it sees!
The eye lies on the left scale and the pocket on it's right
They fight and we don't predict who wins, let alone who's right
It is a good thing the mind likes to see without the eye and
Excites over the stallion to run the most beautiful garden
Of eternal oblivion - or does the stick need its Stonehenge?
All those nightly horses may have their round the clock stallion
After all.
When the blue bathroom doll galloped closer
She saw it wasn't a ring the doll carried
It was round bowl with a hole in it through which
A search light seemed to wander over the faces,
Until it stopped on this pink bathroom doll's face
In the bowl she saw packages,
In the dark every cat seems black, then she saw what's gold
She looked into a mirror on a portrait
The portrait of the blue bathroom doll - not any doll?
What did the mirror reflect? All the marrow shook 'n shaked
When she recognized the reflection ~ What now?
What she learned was: not two dolls are equal
Horses don't always understand an orchard's herb
Until they've walked it through.
(With thanks to web blogger and flarf-poet 'Charlie Zero', who inspired and, more or less, taught me to write flarf-poems).
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