The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Tomographic Teleology

so softly rise the smokes of
this swollen crater fading
back into its concealed carapice 
the logarithm twirling around
the chandelier's raining
transpenetration of the horizon

throbbing all to nothing to
every subharmonic attending
the cascade blooming into
obsolescence for a few hours
before trying on another color
and spraying onto the light
fantastic, the altar of
our breathing attestation to
the right place and time to
cyclicate, pupate, ingestate

the hydrocarbon masked ball
of amoral predation where
harlequins hide as detritus,
leavings of the prideful roaming 
within the incessant measuring
of boundary and claim 
ever a failure of imagination,
cosmic wink before the kiss

where we remain consumed and spent
upon a pearl lovingly orbitted
laying on a beach before burning
and turning upon the brazier
to peel back our apple-cored
hearthsong, long wail of weal
unwelded into fundamental needs
served at the drive-in automat
where spoil remains unwinnowed,
unelevated, uncreativated
by a fingerless mind-movement

we scratch an itch to unleash
worlds eddying beneath our F5 
fingertip whose winds drive
the weft before the shuttle
til the slack pulls taut
unburdened by the thought of
the flies caught up in it all
so may our end come by the
swift slap of the swatter's blade.
■





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