Crow, dead in
the gutter.
No more roof or
rafter,
before or after.
Death tailgates breath.
It’s a wide open
road.
A blister erupts
on the soul.
Heaven awaits
rapture.
People, be on alert -
While there’s
hope in darktown
The half cup empties
the well.
Growling gut loosed dog craving
Godforsucculent decay.
Lips thicken and
slack.
Tongue warms,
grows fat.
Sighing groin slips cold.
Behaviour of old, husbandry and hunting.
The breeze of change has two poles,
both erect and dangerous.
Life and love terms estranged.
There’s always another way.
Alone and unable to bare the light.
Eyes are blunt and throat is weak.
The pulse defies despite.
Where life dreams of rain
Compost stews seeds inside.
Channels and weave and tolls
Can’t be discrete. This life,
A collision is bound to happen.
Let’s hope it’s a harbinger
Of places impossibly imagined.
This life takes passengers.
Desire expects to arrive.
The lonely bus whose
driver
Is tired, cuts a
curb.
A traveller on wing
expires.
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