Important piles extrude their smiles
slowly going, folding, showing;
digging bigness licks the seventies
and claims upper west side slight.
By gerund, by fairgrounds,
by urban rural contrition,
whose diners seek miners
for all those cold roles
that only Los Angeles
could talk into pictures.
Asphalt disdains to touch concrete:
curb that gray dog.
Materials marshal matter
while notions ocean scatter
giving separation to body
and togetherness to mind.
All that gathers is rather bland,
don't you contractually think?
Something-ese this way eases,
unless you take the cardinal route:
red and twittering and twinge-ing
when hawks come over for breakfast.
Dove me a bar, chocolate or soap,
and any of the above's likeness to
any corporation living or dead
is purely by dance and dread.
Roman Ryan 