The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Target Practice

How much for it to be?
when you bend down the strands 
and round the irrational for me
the prismatic effluence falls 
within my span and apprehension
so easily lifted from the valley
of stagnation no longer unstirred
enclosure suddenly unconfines
my step through the hourglass
and back again stormsurge unebbing
makes stone soup for the soon
to be the swell of hungry unshod 
whose borders have been lifted
while chins unhinged cringe at 
the egregiousness of it all
that is why I perseverate in
examining the sprawl and 
lay of it all within the chained 
link tomographic stage of my
minds orbitting objects until
the twin paradox introduces
doppelganglicher impressions
to the timid remaining who
balked at venturing forth 
preferring to throw grapes at
open mouths and bending a thumb
to the spiccato salute of sharpshooters.
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