--- R O N A L D   P A L M E R

All leftover sons are plastic and tragic: 
unradioed untelevised:  you:were:never:young: 
O Icarus:  be my wingless:  a static-scratched 
warning:  hot water pounds my head:  
while a pseudo-masculine voice shoots itself:  

I bow my head ape fashion 
toward the drain:  history colander: 
sift the facts:  collect like a clump
of black hair:  

wax wings melt 
even boil:  but do they never entirely vanish?:  

this calls for a reformation:  O loud-selling Lord:  
I'm drenched with a desire to grow the market!:  
one thousand Icarustic toys:  hand-flown 
through the sun:  another promise 
bounces off the fogged mirror:  

I'm washing my hair to horror commercials:  
void:where:prohibited:all:restrictions:apply:
my clumsy cumbersome wings wait in puddles
till eagerly I sunward fly.