The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Wisteria Wine

The flush of rushing cascades
down my chest in lilac garlands
whose pearl buds attend to waking
to sing the mellifluous lilt of 
the grossular goblet quivering full
with the dissipation of amethystic 
dreams sparkling at the orbicular edge
of ox blood thick cares coagulating
in callusness over the uncertainty that
weeps in scarlet exudates swallowed
by the air ocean of ambivalence
intermingled with the cerulean glow
of imagination wandering the garden
path where jasmine strands dangle
and lavendar bundles are strewn 
across the obsidian-cobbled footpath
dayhewn from wrangled yokes worn

Sip from the garnet-gilded chalice
that easiest mulberry milky mead of
rebelief illuminated by nuance's
constellation contently smile-sated 
by the crystalline rectitude of 
the hard won scribbled formula
our left lobe clings to as the 
sharp brimstone floor falls away 
to let our dexterous desires silk
prance their nudity across our 
prim and demure calculations of
where the oenophile will drop the
next dispatch to feed our destitution
with vinca minor cadences each a 
tender kiss of orchid inspiration
cockled plums fresh upon the vine
bursting in Ganymede's botryoidal bliss
■





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