You starved yourself to juicing adverts
sliding cold frames until the cure
fell from another poire of your skull
and cross bones to play a child
When there were so many already
Dead and buried.
Story’s to choose from heeled to bare
Footed wandering into solitare the
surviving baby boomer short of a
tree to make a wish come lie with.
The asphestos pipes pill dropping rats
Enjoying they’re final score days on
unbranded medicine for this reimagined
calling you on those Soviet Union hands
Czars propped up hats lay hidden
On the boarded strand.
Laced up by red square men avoiding
the leap after other look outs went out