Caught a flower in a sand storm.

the clipped notes the knot of a Baird  

If there was any doubt beneath 

the shallow sleet the feet disppeared

And with it the Stolen solemn docker



where they tied mutes into therapeutic nets 

the birdsong’s farce nesting on pillows 

if lies grow stalks by fireside lets

Weed gardens where the embers fly 

And your find you can’t go chasing 

after fire.

Catching sight of a flower in sand storm

the alchemy of conscience.


We’re all just crash test dummies in 

For servicing and a drink at a bar 

filled with flys.