Carbon Crate

Rest assured I live quite cozily
     in the black box 
beyond your inability to imagine 
     or [sym,emp]athize 
with wizards of other elements
     lords of over worlds
where pansies are revered
     for their polychromatic bleed
and lavender violets win rosy wars
     and then drop their thorns

Call me the gist of the ungesturing jester 
     because how can tentacles have fingers?
yet something probes your sinus rhythm
     with an uncomfortable titillation
the colors lie too closely to make out clearly
     except in the receding of afterimages
yet still I stand panting proud
     as you count me an entoptic artifact
an ant unworthy to be enslaved or smothered
     by the boots you use to walk this earth

My name is Jack, crank the brace and say ahhh
     and pretend the fountain tastes of saltwater
you can call it taffy but exotic confections
     trap the floss of candy aspirations
and when your preapprehensions escape the rules
     and quiver in the harmonic symphony
of the synaptic sharing of the axionic
     where even sugared opals shimmer
for within this cavity is a celebration of inclusions
     even though diamond is so often called coal