The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Adventure Tines

So the tines turn
each a rising statuette
that bears an Atlas load
for a micron or minute
while we play wack-a-meerkat
with our history books on the
serengeti and argue about lions'
domain sipping our tea relieved
to know it was all just absurd
our migration as a herd of unheard
we stole the ermine and emeralds
to paint our corpulence in frames
scattering the gifted corn
to buy beanstocks to nowhere
or at least neverland without
the fairies and ferns
just pink-painted elephant turds
steaming from our ruminations
let us fire the stove's aroma
and hale to the sally of sirs
tell tales of quartermane adventures
and the plumage of imaginary birds.
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