The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
To Arms

Elegance bugles my amoebic attention
into the glory of the erect stance
towering over ant-speckled grasses
how dare I presume
to claim this altitude
in my singularity
with no autocratic hero
to impugn my nexal[1] value
or install my totality
into the reactivity
of circuitry,
after all,
procreativity is
the defined life
studded to erect multiplicities
that feed on the honesty of
sanguine tempests
enthralled by mirrors cocked
at precise angles so we may
suppose flight and boast the
insight of the night sky's unfolding.
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