The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Joy

I must really
enjoy the sound
of my own
vociferations
echoing
in this chamber of
horrors or secrets?
I turn the word
like a diamond, 
each meaning faceted
upon the cave wall
formal dining
upon our better angels
gilded and crystalline
in crinoline, rotating
upon the celestial
and little girl's
princess dreams
could choke a Bronie
and hack up a hirsut
hairball of tea parties
and rainbows
sprinkled upon the fountain
of an English garden
in April, after a sultry shower,
I am wet
with dewdrops and snail trails
although I wouldn't mind
a puppy dog tail
between my lips for an
evening soire,
dip my toe in the dark pool.
and feel the drop
careen down the hairs of my
calf, between my toes
like a tongue behind my
ear and a lick between my...
I digress, into the
quickening.  Oh sweet
flush has returned to my cheeks
and the rush of fluids shifting
rises in my mind's...
what was I saying?
I like this island,
it has a coconut.
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