The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Pulsing

While the eyes luster in brilliance
our potter hands grope an echolocation
a stereophonic fingertip triangulation 
we wriggle despite our star spinning 
and the incoherence of our elected boundaries
pausing to listen erect with antennae 
of different colors to perceive a distant bell
that liquifies our metal to an argentine foil
a single surface plucked by your visage visiting
our humble waterlogged waterbug legs
dancing in desperate stimulation
while our awareness lies transfixed in
your spice almond bed where sugared thoughts 
relax into your syrupy raisin revelations
inhaled in aweful gasps and blushed circumspections
you pulse your fingers through my hair
in warm spasms of panoptical fire flares I 
surrender to brilliances unimaginably brought bare.
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