The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Unpanoplied

Does the transcendent revel in
revealing its flow in twisted riddles:
to don the mask or lash steel to bone
leaves a kinder belly unshielded 
though obscured by a flinted facade
cheekbone pointing away from the 
dangling bits unfully formed, sheathed
in a prosthetic ambition horned with
spikes and the tally of jousted falls
even children giggle at the pretense
while pointing at the impaling of
blindspots that were too real to give
way or refract in a more honest light
our humble sanguinity and the gnarled
countenance of thirty thousand scarry days

we judge beauty by the light of eyes 
enshrouded in niqab coffin wrappings 
indiscernible jewels too proud to read
we could pry them from their steel prongs
and still not ascertain their value
a plinth of pietà swaddled in pyre fire
beneath the petrushka peelings of the
soon to be baptized into death

the mystic dances nude in the noonday
his song, a strangely soothing scat,
syncopated by the unheard pluck
of the Fates spinning their tangled 
yarn as he steps over the punji sticks
of small-minded territories to
yearn in disparate leaps
for the eternal consummation
to the last drop spilling his verve
on the seashore of endless sands?
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©2024 Mark Daniel Milbocker  All rights reserved.