The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
The Mammoth Enters

In the sprawl of the woolly whale
awash in coils and rivulations
I the flea gather my ponderings
to the Horton of my whoville encampment
scribbling on napkins as the 
gilding of your scrollwork unfurls 
and hurls my hubris into wonderment
so traces my finger through your mane
as if my ticklings could be belly rubs
your utterances echo into timeless refractions
of the thrice eye blinding weight of
truth whose subharmonic resonances
jolt me from my contentment and 
point to the precipice awaiting, 
forgotten membrane suddenly appears
the unpierceable veil of impending doom
the crèche of all things feared
why worship like three wanderers
when torches advance in goosestep
though I know not how to burn
so I straddle the eternal abacus 
and perfume the pyre with
sincere libations to comrades spent
and lay my head down to the rent.
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