The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Blanket

Muffling with snowy pillows of vast cottony
the umbers slumber underneath the botany
so remains unheard the screams of a paralytic dream
or gurgles after the avalanche-still canopy

Buy a plot where you can forever turnover
give the cold chip-shoulder to the ardent drover
let not the bitumen druzy spawn the ogre-fairies
or disturb the flagrant continuity of silken clover

We, the shire rabbits, nibble stems into libations
to honor waning shadows with eulogic jubilations
worntorn stanzas embroidered with pelagic patronyms
or the rorschach of carrot-stained aberrations

Now I lay me upon the linen alter cloth
extend my angel arms into the mycelial froth
shed the crumbling coat of too many seasons 
but not the antennae of this three-eyed atlas moth

Until the love that drips from the cavern top
turns the flowstone heart with its patient drops
and melts the ever twinning halos of our last halite
into the vitreous emeralds of terracing vivianite.
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