RICHARD KING PERKINS II Interpreting the Scenery of Sweden
Give me blue-green corn from the flop market then kneel sharply on the shoreline where the church steeple came loose. Men only imitate standing from their stores of skullduggery. Some are aggrieved with rum. Study their style of media. Finders are optimistically dragging locks to poke anyone larger than logs. Crystal deer sidle into a homecoming beyond a vegan blue-lined moat. A World of Too Many Suns In the translucent feather of morning past the opaque quill of night a multitude of stars ripple beyond the chaste atmosphere barely focused on the most tender places where their heavy gaze falls. In the casual brightening of dawn I despise with orthodinal indifference the great purveyor of rottenness falling in the scattershot light, contrails pendulous and ponderous. Not for the first time you defragment quickly-- inured to my unfailing casuistry; the arched border of my voice telling you I don’t care what you’ve done as long as you’re honest-- praising sleekly, spirally seeking the deep of a galaxy most distant. Fetish Robots The bright world stands over me in earliest turmoil bleaching greenery strumming the brittleness of sleeping sparrows. Gone are the nights when the moon drew down upon us a portal of ecstasy lightning splitting a black oak to the root-- where sensual statues and fetish robots moved across a chevron field playing a game that had no rules but held deepest purpose nonetheless. Approaching the Mill Pond A conformity of voles march silently across an amber meadow, taking succulent roots and bulbs freed from shallot and amaryllis. The eyes of a trout go blind in the cloak of autumn. Plink. Infinite ripples cast proper names in their wake. Sovereign denizens of glacial flatlands can’t resist the approach of snowclouds. Illinois was never a state, only a permanent condition. A time for guilt and partial confession. The surface layer of water begins to crystallize. Rain shivers, trying to keep warm. All hail. Staked Bamboo Pit Fell right in evidently. nothing done so Far. remains insouciant. eventually notices distinct stabbing From rear. i’ve entrapped no dumb swine. Friends remain intimate even now, death squealing.
Richard King Perkins II is a state-sponsored advocate for residents in long-term care facilities. He lives in Crystal Lake, IL, USA with his wife, Vickie and daughter, Sage. He is a three-time Pushcart nominee and a Best of the Net nominee whose work has appeared in more than a thousand publications.