The bathroom floor reveals tiny stories-
a yawning ogre by the bucket,
an orgy near the door-
Receding cold exposes old scars
making doors unclosable
windows shriek at mid-morning,
the vegetation under our skins die.
A sticky eye tears apart;
afraid to blink, in case it shuts forever
ceiling un-drips, coils back,
the sane smoothness resumes.
More tea, yes.
I waddle through the tingling coherency
of your reasons.
its hydric warbles;
a particle, a wave
I am afraid of our immeasurability;
I look for the dead ends,
but all I see is a labyrinth
a car’s reversing tune morphs in half-nightmares.
a crow’s incessant pecks on my forehead.
I press my dripping glue-hands to my eyes,
to prevent my face from dropping off
on the floor.
Beasts gnaw into rib-spaces
colours from each brick sucked
clean lines and bones of still life
leaves in grey-scale-
Moon - the silent bleacher
streets, teeth-white and forlorn-
the graph of the city shivers
its aged veins exposed.
Tossnturn tossnturn tossnturn
dance of even-toed ungulates
defeating bleats, tiny hoofs
pitter-patters, flurry of fleece
Whoever suggested counting sheep!
Miniscule dolls on each hair-strand
chorusing sand-papered screams.
spills, a cloud-stained sky
I am drenched in
mute ballads and neurosis
airless craters become allegories for love
behind my spine-
a woman-shaped lake forms
teeming with the new-born earths.
the first bird sings a lullaby
parched eyes close welcoming-
the restless brevity of dreams.
Image: Brian De Young