The Synchronized Balloon Tears of Mount Rushmore

The Taj Mahal
motor boat engine
might enter
the changeless
dremel
en Gobi

a single
clownfish
for each finger
hides above
the center
knuckle

the illusion
of the balloon tears
as they go against
the natural order
down the face

the remnants
as loosed on ribbons
are like christmas
packages

curling green caterpillars
my nose owns a mustache of
books

the sticky sparkly
knights
as they enter
the shadow of the city
of Wayang
their hooked crooked
salmon samurai jaws

dangling jade pork pupas
charms
which sit like decibels
along the thin horizon
sticks
like smoke
from glass spires
attended by the cheap
green prayer

its rug
the solemn wire

the halo
as the invisible
passes within

the decoration's
universal embrace
can be so upsetting
now that we are
trapped under this
eyelid
while the parade
goes raging

coral flame perch
q-tip
gum wrapper