"All is becoming ..."

All is becoming
strange     mixed fruit jelly
  & always who drives
the green disk drops
low     across the highway
TV used to be better
Fog like a tiger
Here, the night.
Where you are beautiful & have
   seven fingers, all in my pocket.
Let us give thanks!   And graces
personified and bestowed
The keel may be rusted, but the masts stand tall
white as the mountains, the birds, their snow.