Poem: Bother the Masterpiece

bee-scrapp’d tigress in blue,
wallowing fever walks the streets,
maudlin cries the weary dream,
sampling her wonder in doses,
climbing down the ladders of fatigue:
why does health in blue
declare the death of dreams, cloud
the wary, angle the tides,
in the saying is her demise, &
so she wanders, tree-fill’d,
apple-ing the day, in a quiver
of recognition, the dreamer dreams where
once we cast, the castaway dream
beseeches, the casual flick,
the hand to a mouth, fingers
unhinging the mind’s sway,
the perilous straits, the bishop
fadeaway, but in the fall much more than
the one falling, the missionary escapes,
the ribald wonder of a day
strewn ‘cross the nowhere,
the haggard dream,
the daring grey hospice
of departure: take the leaf-green
way, angel your wings,
call down prayers in brown
paper, eclipse the small self,
the thick of time’s teeming, all
in a sway, in a bluing corner,
musty ale-house of loves unspoken,
arch canyon of the bother,
the masterpiece of a genuine fold,
nodding little dim-light
casting shadow in the dying dream,
goggled fascimiles of the westered
gleam, she climbs a westering way,
she dreams a westering dream,
she bends to a moon forgiven,
in the spirited vanishing
of the tempered seam.