Elemenoh
a poem
From corners churning amongst the stacks, it toils.
A riddler of language and labyrinth, mojo and groove.
A caster of spelling and spells, a syntactical shore.
A jester of mirrors lapping mere quanta away.
An articulator of silence, the alphabet god.
Its concatenations of gem, jewel, ruby, and stone
alight along tongues that chime firing crystals.
Its oceans flow with textured whorls of morpheme,
jangling cosmos borne of orichalcum and elixir.
The brain only froths in the frontiers of its brine.
And scatting ecologies of the soul, Elemenoh
is appeased only by the lines divined far
beyond x’s y and y’s z. Why is a, a? It’s why b’s, b.
It’s a time with no next and a song with no You
nor Me, that most known and familiar letter
of any abc.
These lexicons of imagination grooveth on
with their chrysanthemumbles and saucered chrome.
This codex is the nexus between velvet curtains drawn
and the first blade of grass, that shard of glossolalic
brilliance whose faberge foyers this poem will
forever linger within.
