Pursuing Japanese hats that couldn’t quite stretch
to a whole haiku sandalwood seeds hidden beneath
infilled In lets of red popping suntori bottle tops
with teeth tugging on laid and buried cables
Carried on the backs of Incommunicado ducks.
Formica tables Of squares the egg tapping blues
into a age of rail roadies steam rising above
harboured teapot makers dreams
of Hyottoko after hours imported Porters
And big band.