The wheel of history is being turned

Terns skim the wetlands which are evaded by the tiller

The tiller is the lever which turns the wheel

The wheel levers the tiller and is attached to the rudder

The rudder maneuvers the ship like a shark fin

Fine establishment you’ve got here

Her? Oh, she’s my sister






















Sinister machinations of the governing classes

Classy napkins on mechanical ships

Monocled blips in standardized design

Designation of rights

To your right, the Chancellor twists the proverbial spigot

The proverbial spigot clinches it for her allies

And all I got was this T-shirt






















Shirts are not weapons despite the exuberant cannon

Can you hear the rats?

Route through the barrel

Perilous froth frothing mouths of the mighty

Might we get out of this mess

Miss? I think you dropped some coins

Coincidence? I think not





















Knots (mathematical variety)

Varieties of rye, amber, wax

Wax is overlain with a spool of wool

Wool socks illumined by pink salt lamps

Limp salt is grated from a belly and boiled for top dollar

Dollar, I said, but I meant to say Euro

Europe, the continent






















Content am I

Eyes boring holes in a glassy house

Housing is a nightmare

A nightmare I had last night: Vultures picked at my chantilly lace top

Atop of which I wore an orange cashmere sweater

Swearing, the vultures squished silkworms in their enameled beaks

Bespeaking the moment’s sentiment






















Sediment finds itself

A shelf of tripods beside a twinkling body of liquid

Liquefied natural gas

Guess it all started with my ill-fitting shoes

Sure, she said, collecting her thoughts on a sinking ship

Ships are sovereign

Rein it in, ladies






















Let’s each order a separate entrée

Enter through the spiral staircase and pivot to your left

Leave behind the grove of marshy wood, children sucking on juice, disinterested onlookers

Look at me pick at my dilapidated entrée

Untrue to say I was entirely disinterested

Distrusting those tendering us

Uselessly, let’s






















Legs will only get you so far

Furthermore, you are not a special agent of change

Change is a declension, you know?

No. I do not … at least not precisely

Concisely: Mean is not medium is not meridian is not average

In a rage I scampered along a leafy footpath,

Took a bath






















Bathed in amniotic fluid like a squished-out pustule

Pistils, but make it vernacular

Oracular cousins fair

Far prefer to dither

Defer to a particle-board landscape punctuated by peanut shells

Shill an Andrew Jackson for a dinner

Son, you’re a sinner






















The winner takes it all. There is only

One who wins it

It's not that complicated

Complication being I am nonfunctional

“Functional movement” is movement that is strategic

Strategy is the overall plan. Tactics is every excruciating step

Step-by-step-by-step






















Stop. Mangers are not baby beds

Beds are not troughs

Troughs are not weeping mangers

Major life changes up ahead:

Had you considered this, too?

To think we should cease

Crease the heavy curtains in the basement






















Abasement means “having cause to feel shame”

Same. I am comparatively well-off

Well, off you go scampering to the walled medieval city

Citizens of all lands

Landed gentry

Gentlemens’ clubs

Clubs not thwacked against the delicate areas of the neck






















Heck, I’m in Lübeck

Lübeck is known for its almond Marzipan (among other things it is known for)

Four score and seven years ago

Ego, the jovial one …

Au passant one …

Once you see it …

It was all in an award-winning commercial






















Commercial ships ferried soldiers and their arms

Arms were attached to shoulders

Soldiers creaked against the boards of the frigate

A rivet in the bane of my existence

The bane of my existence

My existence’s bane

Bay window