Nature poem

The Santa Mannabo wind
that slams the leafy sidewalk like a big invisible boot;
the airborne seeds of silvermoss;
the Cassian candelabra trees in the wintry park,
upswept, like the fine hairs of a love triangle;
the lark-a-doo,
coming to rest outside my window;
the scarlet fritillary that shivers in the San Bonobo wind;
the lazy turtleduck;
the slizzgrass and autobush and upsoil;
the California reefer bug
strolling with the Hackensack rockworm --
folding coasts;
the still-green blubberfruit, slam-dancing in the iridescent light
of March;
the electro-leaf;
the racktard stophopper;
the Saint Bonerowner wind
tripping accidentally over a stump;
the underwear beetle waking from a nap;
the wrinklerat shaking his head slowly;
the swamp-man
and his four beautiful children;
Mother Nature humping a hill like a pillow;
the clown-faced ant baby;
Eutamias minimus biting the head off of Allocricetulus curtatus --
watching this through an X-ray machine;
the partybird and skeeptile;
the smug-ass loggers
flung into space by Stove Bonecus the Wind.