Stealing the black harp to fill fridges
as the mould grow into its haven
freemen in the countryside
that never cried even with a bunker to hide
it’s salts are as dry as ice the woven domes
On rivers housing the flight.
caught on the telephone line of castrated dog
readings like deciphered clouds of cubic metres.
As science explains where the spread of sugared
soap felled population to create a waltz you walk
with vale we entwine with the fawns gun lust
never look behind.
for its own mother’s love it would ransack box
the lost Minutes of creation for redemption
the complexities of exiting tubular chains
to meet with nature blushered faces imprinted
Faces found left in coffee grounds.