Once Revealed in the Morning Sun
by Thomas Lipschultz 10/10/01

The silver curtain of dawn arises
parading the path with visi-surprises,
revealing each seed as it glistens in passing,
every weed as of itself it makes assing,
every last thorn from the thornberry bush,
the sweet lady panda's plentiful tush,
the weird smelly guy in mid-roadside-pee,
the willowy hair-wisps of you and of me,
and seven small ducklings crossing the road,
a used car dealer one-eyed and three-toed
with his sixty-two children from sixty-two wives
each living their separate and falsified lives,
a coffee filter all moldy and gross,
some swingers' discarded old scanty-clad clothes.
Then, finally setting, the sun goes away
to make way for the night and return the next day,
bringing forth the twilight fast on its heels,
and I won't even consider what THAT light reveals!