Light Will Billow in the Brain

​Light will billow in the brain, 
A hot air balloon will ascend, light
Will roll down the avenue and break
Into foam, and every slight

Typed reminder with every clause
And subclause, and every marching band
Playing every squeaky note,
Will be your lovely, grand,

Delightful thrill, as soup heats on
The stove, whose smell seeps through the street
Until the hills of Mars, and so
In each ravine, until the bleat-

Ing of the lambs, until the wind
That circled in the grotto blows
Upon the protesting gulls, that whirl
To heaven, and puffs the stiff clothes

Hanging on the line, and lady-
Bugs tumble through the air,
Hanging onto a thought, if that,
And rise above their roots, a fair

Distance in the sky, and the wind
Thrums, an edge of black sky
And white stars, and a tumbling diver,
The smallest step you take on the high

Crag now outstrides your former
Stride, the sun blazes, to fade
The moon into pale blue. And the oriole
Puffs its chest on the palisade.