The Platitude of normality
I took in my cup of tea with two cubes
Of ordinary insanity and a dash of the inane
I let the leaves seep a little more than needed
Till they turned blue from mahogany
And I inverted my china cup to resemble
Hidden temples under white sand dunes
In cold wet desserts, west of the eastern sun
I poured the brew from my teapot which
Actually was a kettle of soft silvery metal
And created a fountain that fell to rest
In my saucer and from it I sipped
Easily because it was shaped like one half
Of an oyster’s shell with serrations
Lined with ocean crystals formed with irregularity
And I sighed inwards the breeze
Which balmy with untimely moonlight
Reached upwards in parallel circles
Like an ancient man making patterns
With diamond burnt smoke
I nestled in the palm leaves the tips of which
Were blunted with soft snow wool
And I slept dreamless, even in sleep accepting
That all was as it is proper to be
The platitude of normality nodded satisfied
And bid me a bright goodnight


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