The Smithsonian's dusty trumped-up American Bald Glares glass-eyed from its cement stem Flightless adherent to its typeset caption "This specimen typifies..." White-cloth greatness fitted to a character-trait-- Gestures grand enough for "something" Parodied into "plausibility." Daring airs Are glass-encased, and grounded goes the mobile soul Once limber and viscous as a spiky rose. All's choral, Collegial lean-togethers, mediocre ochers Detailing a dulling sunset-- Not the hazardous edge of new dawn, Clouds, clouds "by the skyful," The wee eye a-glitter, an observatory dome open to the cosmos And more. The great green agate door of Oz Stands pried wide, stoppered open. Shall we fall into the verdant velvets, Eat the wheats sizzling in their millions? Come, here's my hand, toad-wet, willing-- Here's the heart-mouth pledge-- and the plunge, the plunge that mimes the promise mum. Down we float careening reagents ripped to splinters and sailing anyhow onwards.