on the fulcrum of the philtrum

I balance on a wishing well
that all men call the Voynich Manuscript
halcyon, into this world we're shlepped
cry of the only-in-books-heard whipporwill

a shlapa of my own design, sing gneiss
the drapa of the chimney's droog, to charm
what suicidal paradigm
comes down the pike to make the earth more sparse

a hallelujah rich
as adjuncts sure are poor
a tulip in a vase of everclear

& nothing new to spite the roach
of hist'ry save a scratchy whipporwill

"...a national GPS-guided app created so that residents always know exactly how far below sea level they are."