Hose down that pretty mouth

Strangers/stranger – the black lines descend

Channel hope into sea pearls, whitewash ornament

Coloured grief patches outstretched, remembering the peace you made, cut adrift

A snow blossom of patchwork ire, goblets of confusion by a dirty mare bed

Sink black teeth into Delaware and glance

At pocketbook confessions before the blood runs out

Keep dreaming, hose down that pretty mouth, the strain of show, watch the woods

Creeping the awkward flesh standing without the hand of matter, of role

Chewed off an ear, to replace by breakfast

With a siren who performs fellatio on the children of royalty

Eating and eating, the cage will wait

Hope knows no confession like a good goose, a timepiece for hope

Lines/black through the mounds of shapes, hair follicles suspended on sticks

Grunting oars, shimmering a black elastic lake

Kind old bear, waiting for the Dorothy spine  

The cutball host, shopping for the way through the mirror

He is seen - a walker, a broker, a deathtrap, a note

A nosebag for Dobbin

A celestial spire