IDENTIFIED, MENTIONED

Scrapescratching through the index with icepicks,
canoeing the interstices, as I’ve said,
videlicet, the spaces between related concepts
that look so minute but yawn into fabulous maws replete
with snatchme rubies &c. that dazzle the old brainski
and bid it to stay here a while and look around, enthuse
and be dazzled further until the train completely derails,
or your bigboss snaps fierce fingers in your face,

and it’s back to work son: as always, the profoundly
sharp song of ginger ale bubbles in your nose nearly draws a tear,
then the mellow, pedestrian(!) taste brings you back from the brink
of I-don’t-get-it-yes-I-do-style ecstasy and down to where the roots grow,
and that’s OK: you shake the dream out of your ear; you pick up the icepick
and draw your wild connecting Xs, Ls and Ks, your complex asterisks, your Zen Os.