Disengaged ensembles fall, torn like discarded words of a book long forgotten.
Plane tickertape fall, flakes frozen flutter, bind themselves misted starry blues.
Playgrounds circle, handlebars dance, only retold fable bring back dirty glances, broken frames.
Images travel fast in chilli winter gardens, where heat and cold intertwine
Inside long vacant rooms and guises, missing points and schemes blaze.
Through hair, through head unforget, faithful story unrest, a blurred vision’s discovery.
Tree branches stalk affliction, shadowed groans then sledgehammer
Home the pitted breath and hardened stare; words are climbing mirrored walls.
Disaffected days are all pushing inwards, conferring with bad rhyme and melody uncertain.
Barbed sparks warp and smores insignificant just grope the whitewashed walls,
The rough house feeling; colourblind centrefold and plastic letters
All that remains is the stealth disappearing, an empty stomach, rotten apple cores.
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