The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
The Geminic Work

Shall these walls of time, space, and death
swaddle us in the membranous firings of dual minds
Januarian bliss for I see you not or never
or shall we sing a Keatsian Ode,
held in glorious tension by 
our asymptotically knowing or
floundering to read between the 
metastasis of words or equivocation of verbal
poetry into the blur of meaning
that is the beauty we so love and worship
leaping deep, making crevasse into prism
abandoning Plato for Aphrodite
bartering the names of hue and contour for 
the momentary weightlessness of appreciation
lost in the contemplation of which word to exclaim
turned like rubric cubes to unlock Ganymede's kiss
and let Saturnic overtures ravish and 
transport us, spewed from Leviathan's inhale
upon quadrillions of quantum silica
scintillating with my panting and swollen gravidity
I hear the cosmic harmony, sweet whisper in 
my hollow emptiness, the nefatic judgment
seals this eternal osculation nay consummation
of why.
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