Haircut. (Hospital diary)

What if your missing imagination was a shave 

and a haircut short of admittance 

through army emigration turnstiles 

some like half baked kirsch betting on horse 

called heat stroke and plague pit makeup 

to thinly disguise the scent phrase 

Left in bloody pools wins letters missing 

Why not reuse the headstone released Names 

That celebrates a rubber Plantations truancy  

Forgiveness free as that first Ward trip extinguishing 

lead fires So Take off the shark fin shoes 

swim in the tears of the depths Of my solitude  

the only white is Blackest lie apart 

from the magnolia Caught kissing 

With chalked baked ground  and cat scratched board

They Lost me at Goodbyes 

As I was distracted by a great six hellos 

minutes into hitting a stick a stone against brass 

Star and digging out of the orange box

When you look around your find 

What It means to be alone in those empty 

hallways talking into tombs of computer games.