Mosaic Piano

A Paradox in Sophisticated Living

Mosaic Piano

By Robben Wainer

Yet while the pedestrian chats alone,

the candy cane ceramic is pronounced,

the easterly breeze of ISIS is thought of,

with yearly, and monthly well polished bronze,

the labor poured into kettles,

and the chipped glass of her bearing,

obediently dwindled to ashes,

as she crossed a river,

as in a movie

wading by and by.

the talons of the sharp teeth,

the pleas.

Rented costumes and armatta,

lay hold of the cistern of the vesicle,

without a word,

the silence of the Lesbian.

the high of the free lance slave,

the pouring out in waves what regrets overlooked even the chills of flames of regrets,

made an egress of sugary sweet and man made junk,

for the swelling never stopped,

as the DIVA went home to her craving permanently and forever.