With All due respect

The Poem Speaks of Rivers

An effort of the White-clown

I am a portrait built in gelatinous, Therefore I also know the dimensions of the Rivers

nibble off the corncob each datum is like discarded husks, a Deeper River

I am I am a portrait and I’m dancing in the Rivers (also known as drowning in)

Renascence flat style, Each caricature, we’re smiling (as if of) red of Red

This Poem speaks of the Rivers.

moreover yellow our silk-garments are engaged in flowing folds of the Nile in Cairo

moreover, in orange my hymnals painted in orange Pile into the Rivers I named Amazon in Brazil

moreover, backgrounds of your mind the second registers are ringing Like the Mississippi sound I named

Little Moreover stings in background pangs in the gestations of the mind

the River gets Deeper, the Poem moves on

We are what? A million of us painting versions of this poem

in minds right now the oil on canvas bleeds to canvas, Da Vinci scowls at our Efforts

and the canvas on the river Styx runs it runs wholly unable for

the boatman oars the river down the stream our portraits flow

to my open bay like arms duplicitously the thousandsome versions of me dance in our minds.