I had a hunch recently and became
aware of sleeves caught in the leifs
Of disengaged
words like thorns torn from mothers
dictionary are rationed by others obselete
tongues.
–
Like back light trees changing yellow bulbs
for seasonal blue isobars if there was a story
It was just a alphabetical roadsign that lead
to a chair hidden in plain sight awaiting.
–
As for childhood fears they appear months
outmoded Like Sand filled clog’s washed up
Amongst Sea shelled pine cones beached
Against grains Of a ocarina decomposing
Alongside spines of ancestors beta mime
testing vocabulary.
The world of revolving electric atlas
glue using denialist television set.
–
