CANTO 30 Supposing we could

 

Supposing we could

with words do the two-step

providential rhyme scheme

to alter the armpit

stretching away on the ampersands of time?

Supposing there were an ampule of impudent song

that when shattered transforms

esters of yesterday?

I see now the tatters of spin-dried Oriental tapestry

must hang out with the laundry of Western folderol.

Who could make a whole patch

of such a set of blankets?

knockin’ on a Quiltdown Skull.

tunin’ in to Yangbusters.

Draw up the wagons of these linear tags

into a circular bit of reasoning.

We’ll fend off the Foofaroo Injuns,

a raga bunch of clans.

It’s all in the left and right hubbubspheres.

You have your hub types and your bub types.

Listening to both at once you have your

urbane stereotypes.

With hub you have hubba-hubba hobbies, fuzzy thinking hobbits.

With bub you have bubliophiles and bubbachambers

coming out of accelerator shootouts

of the Ten Most Wanted Particles.

I’m more hubba than bubba,

for bubba or verse.

How’s about you?

Doin’ the one with the two.

Doin’ the one with the two.