The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
After the Rains

I dressed your burns in salmon skins
and cream cheese bedecked with caper jewels
letting the brine wash into the rain
only to sparkle amidst the sands
listening to the opal fires of the caravel
crackle across our weak flesh and 
pull in the moon so our eyelids may wane
and we may cascade the cresting and plunging
of night's corridors and moissanite mirrors
casting our frankenstein-stitched chimerae
into a firework of lava bombs until we
hit the bottom of the ravine and startle
our eyes with the opening of our orifices
strange coral awash in our own spawn
we suckle upon each other's children
and bleach with fever daydreams
waiting for our blessed biome to 
rebloom from our better choices and
ardent filtering for impossibilities.
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