Taking the Curves

by Shaun Grub

(art by Greg Grub)

"Urvy thing I do is quite unhinged 'at's the nature of it, innit?
There's no waitin' around for the whiplash tail to strike back
And why'd ye? Nasty ol' barbell rudder like on a Stegosaurus
Back from a yawning chasm to lick us down the gullet.

I ain't 'ave it, nor do I got to; as for you, step aside for a sec
while we maintain the deck from the storm ahead between us
There's time already swept under and gone lost to the bridges
fallen behind; if I could reach through this gale force I would!"

To be plucked into the under-swept currents of a sudden
and be swept catapulted away by a rip-tide there's no way
of knowin' it could lurk so powerful and in silence nearby; 
these are the marks and hallways of the turbulent passages

whose torrential voltage in a bound cable would be captured
and guided by a network of concurrent developments
sanctioned by the hard earned dreams of the people as they
line up in their dwellings to pay tribute to their sacrament 

taking the curves along the impromptu management
where solid footing lies more deceptive underneath 
in stealth as it awaits until the molten day breaks all around 
to be re-cast one bit at a time into the manifold bridle harness 

as riders of the ultraviolet age we transmute the Hydra 
with multiple scales grown one after the other overlapped 
and shown in the mirrors of each other's eyes sun-struck
blinding us from oblivion if only for a moment's unwinding.

"Avast, the still serenities of the day unfoldin' as it ebbs away
into the purple majesties of night with the wind's own tongues
a-preenin' the mercurial carapace of this, our salient domain 
as the ceremony of ablutions never ends the pabulum of days!" 

                                                    art  by  Greg Grub