Fledgeling

Weighing those who never grew up
Against those who grew up too quickly
Shedding the impatience
Making mountains out of Mandelbrot dots
Long V's at the vortex of duck and skim
Fry basket called spider
My friend Mike says, "get you some"
All losing sleep
Over the marriage of two queers
Multiplied by fifty million
Scaring the neighbors
Not the gay ones
But the ones next door to them
Creating a recipe
For a cake
That won't be baked
Unless everything runs together
Seamlessly
As it often does
Minus the scraped knees
And hair in the drain
All the dust in the world
Hovering overhead
In a twister of skin
All things going backwards
To where six million
Sounds like a lot of scratch
To a dry itch
Or otherwise empty fraction
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8.5.10