| Pause off the skyline blushing cerebellum, do your midnight crash… sink your teeth into envy and slither back to the sun in your ruins where blossoms douse the calm-water festival troupes of quill-poppers lie stacked up like shelves craning their wrecks to your afternoon ambience ploughed with the last stray mushroom flagging down ships with your hand grips calm-ocean colour on your curdling way land of the sloping toil land of the milk thistles, sleeping... canals go clear off steam chartered by compass nails, companions in entrails on the windowsill with god cruising in the bleach of your liquid breath cloaked in equilibrium slurs i only wish the pain you flew lay spread over walls trampled by your very eschews if panorama and winter could see us all now knee deep in our happening hollows, spluttering a sort of camomile midas... ideas came flashing fast in the picturesque days tapestries hung like a delivery from my thoughtlessness watersheds turned into wine mesmerising is the idiocy the clambering climb the half-clasped reproach to life slain sideways iridescent fields coil around the barley months of mud dribble and declaim gone guttural and surreal, a dice roll cubed-- the fervour of an eyeball numbered with fix gone rolling and shuddering on the crest of a slideshow so its settled then, it is... the stomach-world stays buoyant in a symphony of dregs your ashes marooned on a stethoscope |