John Mercuri Dooley
Look. The sky is curling in all the latest styles.
There are peanuts and walnuts and almonds and Brazil nuts
and hazel nuts & a sky. A frame fell from Venice right on
the burning boulders. The trees cut showing off their
inside. Some are almost white. Some are beautifully red. One
looks the world is calling. One was called Olivier. One
opened inside the sky.
A man built with that one. It was the biggest by far
causing him to bulge in places looking down in the shaggy
blue looking over his bulges. He collected purple flowers
around them except in one place where he let a petal of the
sky fall out.
This was not at all attractive to the sky, which just
wanted to be left alone. So it did the opposite of cutting
everything out with its teeth and just let a corner of its
mouth show through red.
Someone else came along with the same bulge and drew a
flower that had stripes and a purple dicks sky. Hmm … The
sky was not liking this at all. In fact, it turned yellow
paper and reveal the black.
The heat went off so he tried to mail the sky. Pillars
of earth held it up, the piece of sky torn.
And here another came, the same but younger with the
same bulge of sky holding his gorgeous hands on his equally
A woman’s hair was in a do. The sky was covered with
face. Pearl earrings confused him. It was really the face
covered with sky.
Further on the red the sky felt good, free, looking at
them all. It threw its pearls and diamonds. The men sold
them in stores and the sky went down crying at the guarded
earrings. The sky decided to itself.
– after “The Sky Book”