The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Gentle Waves

From the upside down
hurricanes spin like children's tops
as tsunamis lap tickles upon our ankles
and entropy erodes into sparkling sand
with giggles erupting from the unearthed
fossils we pretend to discover and 
promptly name with alliterations
sparing an ageless thought to trace
the edge of our understanding before
skipping the stone across Bermuda's triangle
unaware of the intrigues and warring below

From this happy altitude
we mud bathe in our parents' patch
and sing aphorisms into gospel
while nibbling on the golden yolk 
and inhaling sunshine between
our toes wishing for hairier knuckles
and to be further from the shells of
sea fleas and limpets, lost in 
Egyptian deserts camel-bound 
unfurling our leather-wrapped tools
to chip out the last buried corundum.
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