.




ssponge sky

pickled rage

..............llamp nostrils

egg-ears

palamine toothbrush

between rouged and buddhist lips

fish clamber out of the pool wearing worn black leather gloves on their front fins

jewellery in their mouths, unravelling stardust

month of Mondays nailing hammers into sores. sugar paper.

(now we have an apocalypse with a 12-year old girl in it)

there is a bowl filled with blood

& a broken rectum

& 19 soldiers on lollipops on sticks

she disappears stage left in a blue bikini

foxtrot in a foxhole, foxy fish

slumbers a triangle of indiscreet harpoons. A bald man in 1950's Venezuela thinks screwdrivers are his parents and buys a new orange toolbox to keep them in

we will eat our way into oblivion the stars bending their capes over the simple east, magician's urn of forgiveness, buckets of sand on which carpets of ferns/cartons of fears is bottle-topped bishop-backed toast sugar

elephant maid Carrion droops to conquer the eyelashes of the spoon-laden shipwreck

a telegram floats over radio'd interference

a goblin goldfish delivers the chain-armor required for the crossing

slip past the deckchairs, the decades, stacked up in vans by Fed-Ex

fed by endless lawns of tiny pink nipples

a field of corn playing chess with the birds

bishop sacrifice is a stone tower in the sand

a quivering root at high altitude

the knotted ropes of limbs feather upright

penguin restless, car seat balladry, the stepping-bones on the lake

alice's toes each bigger than Mount Rainier when I can't see you Mountain its because your arms have drifted down from you

and your features are damp playdo, daddy, & becoming sludge at your feet, where I kneel

*