Rusting exposures.

Alas the signals are crossed 

Even when leaving terminology out

The pull of new languages and gurus for seconding

the insurance that I do not have on my Life.

.
As I Boardwalk on level plane over the opinion fiedelty

burnt out underneath exposing rusting poppy seed.

.

What I left behind I couldn’t of Carried On

As it plans for me to be dine upon 

so overripe and jettisoned 

pass along the car wash keys.

 .

Even with a keyholed head I couldn’t of seen

What tea hills held in older towns than I will

Ever be.

.
Bags always packed and mindful of the strangers 

Arriving and that leave of a steerage in review

A mirror of the past parcelled slain 

still ringing from the Stone circle of first time.

.

The Decantered feathered polystyrerex throttles back.

As strafes undercarriage and the door is dead bolted 

On periodic wings and death masks are placed away.