The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
The Quintillions-ripened-celestial-orchard

Never have I tasted such a juicy slurp
scintillating sweetness in tart oscillations
puckering my third aperture to discern 
the expanse of the quintillion myriad of ages
and worlds long bloomed and newly blossomed
starfruits to the gods embedded in bloody sinew.

Mockingbird call lilts above the clouds
gurgling in sunshiny brook eddies down 
the hummingbird streams of my hammering
cams and levers that distill ripe spirits
from the skeletons of quince trees that
sprung ancient and evernew furrows of
anima unaware they are caught in a chromatic 
dirge of the inestimable beauty of ecstasy.

Ozymandius chuckles at the recounting 
of the bloated borders of martian empires 
for now is seen the sun-mirth-glimmer
and hummingbird-breast-shimmer of glistening
naivete, innocent of the sirens symphonic 
yet instinctively born to unleash new bray.
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©2024 Mark Daniel Milbocker  All rights reserved.