The Poetry of Mark Daniel Milbocker 
Calibrating

Set I upon the chronometers paced
racing upon the lightning washed wavefront
leaving cascading refractions eddying away
brimstone bricks fall into place a placer 
of gilded lily lamé veiling the unwashed
tock in the head knobbing forth bobbily
at each flourishing turn of the polarity
making the walls ever more skitterbrittlely
jerichoed with ejaculations of wonderwash
the unshrouding unfolds in pulled paper curls
orange onion folds sparkle with the inflush of air
and filterfeed upon the tears of ecstasy without
apology unhindered gush of brain stem marrow 
jezebeled with side symmetries of crystalline glaze
spreading with the warm halo unclenchingly dancing
patulously like a dervish wish upon the astrologies
sacred centers colliding in tolling reverberations
yolk running to lemon oval curds in butter glistening
allmother aglow awaits your attempt at self delight
and hugs tightly the toddling adventurer claiming 
his tiny treasures mere smiles to vaulted embellishment
laying down her rubies to lend a more tender kiss
a moment of glint held from its glimmer and glittering
the last tumbler finding its inner sanctum of continuity
and with one last shared exhale of the flywheels,
the orrery resumes its counterspinning concavity
each hair extended to an equidistant erection
lamellae perfecting their lattice to a blue shimmer
with only a wink of asterism confessing how deep
the aquifer flows to slake the allthroat unspeaking
though breathing in concert tones and refulgent harmonics
rendering the jigsaw commingling into sunflakes unwoven
combusting away the weight and bondage masquerade 
to the lithe mime ballet of constellations reassembling
the conductor taps time to its orchestrations and
reminds the lazy piccolo to promptly piquantly piccolate
so the timpanic taiko turtle can lumber with proper modulus
and the trumpets can sing in long glaring brassisisms
lending a distant hum to the goosebumps down my nape
ears echoing with the rush of heartbeats persisting
like a chime hoovering still before the incoming proximality
that here and now is the moment time strikes every meridian at 
once.
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