Improv/Imitation 2, Week 2

"If I told him would he like it. Would he like it if I told him."

I don't bother to tell him about the rolling bull
that would otherwise run him over on that hill
around which he sleeps at noontime.
That hill sparks a China doll, flaming upon
the hearth of sunken treasure: no one writes
down what it means to them when they hear
that song, no one reads the words of others
written on papier mache musical boxes
with dancing ballerinas skipping and breaking
their fragile ankles upon the moors of Hip-Hop.
They forget on purpopse and pretend to fall
just to please their whipping bull.