ROCOCO BOKONON – Jason Wambeau

February 10, 2026

I shut my cupped palm flat-form over my one good ear,

lean supersonic into the interchange-overpass 

highway of my body audio & sense pouring forth fresh off 

my fashy boy scout swimsuit shindig lunacy a bubbling newborn 

rumor from the skinny thing I loved who said to me I love   your name  here

who now from all awful oft-haunted unmerry 

teal metallic steely shrieked in crumpled loose-leaf 

that in an honesty too long resisted sensed in me 

an immutable cringe, a projected faux intimacy 

unshakably foreign and to make not what of. And who won’t see it like that. Or can’t…

But all that’s beautiful who do, all who scare up  as evidence  miracles debunked, 

feral Albuquerque incarnate, feral phoenix unglossy obtuse, 

crossing infants off to-do lists, 
Realizing shit… where 
wherever you could stay be made 

example of, to litany of ~
or single fragment fair designed 
disqualify you from

the promised fields o loving little mercies…

unto serene visual surgery in thee negative heavy 

yellow cloud  hovering Thank You and That Would Be Great 

beside the donkey draped in bright floral quilts  who believe 

they are television and have convinced many. 

But I can really have nutrition too, whispers to itself 

the rebel donkey, a radical decree of pride, in tiny might, 

from harmless poverty, feeling out ‘til leaning on   an inner gruff…

Fifty states? it asks the scribe. Fifty states, the scribe

responds, recording. Daytimes in Nevada? asks the donkey. 

Daytimes we can count on, speaks the scribe  instead

in silken brownrobe humble hood his unbefuddle  into leaves

beside the tiny sprites whose job it is 

to tally up the mysteries  too few have witnessed 

who journey  seedlessly  along the wind

with jewelled codes internal  { & blue-plated armor its arboreal calligraphy, }

no, …from with our blueprints  of Yore Hour o oO Our Queen bBarbara, si donkey

like. sprites alight  on oars, on shields, on shoulders & limes  eking thee 

seep-speaky, sleepy ease, sprinklingly: Impress upon 

thees alfalfa a practical grace, & graze their wispy 

tendrils trace upon, & unto surfaces of ponds (upon)  I will you this,

I leave you thus… I see you centuries at least alas… in So on   

In low  shrubberies,  & moist in   most  in  

mosey moats n notes   in house  & if in  mine & is thy own 

Aloud afloat. Aboard. Amen. A roundabout abode. A boat.