Hoot @ scoot.

Why did the hoot scoot 

move over the parchment 

at the treble clef piano 

when you mentioned the lengths

and breadths human’s would 

swim too move a mountain 

To gaze upon the amazon’s

Flowers fullfing the cracks 

With papers Fluer de lyes 

jumping the queues 

to ride ashen winged lion 

that sugared its toungue 

on the red barn’s roof.


I meet a man who once held me up 

to historic blossoming trees

whilst saying it will be ok pan 

The smoking pipes matched 

The marching bands buried 

Faces in Moral code studying 

Entombed in Monet weather

On twine the art they cradle 

Crossed arms of four docks 

with blotted collars 

Webbed feet of how the present

Is a ladder filled with those 

Caught spying on earth.