Liqueurats.

A enlistment poster told me to wait a while

To reply to the ideas of losing threads in time

When hens have imparted they’re imprints.

on cognitive devices now Strapped to your wrist

With Daily reminders as to why we write a list 

to explain to the world about power failure.

Empty blue bottle fly along tramlines

to the philosophers called liqueurats 

That’s a count in too computerised sin

and a signed Siamese meow.
Bee keeping questions over translation services

As Larvae make gestures about phone rates 

As hands are Raised to join the queue 

like blackcurrants that root ball that awaits its repot

when a war of words has lost its meaning 

ordinance words are taught and wards are walked.
Empty blue bottles fly along tramlines

to the philosopher called liqueurats 

That’s a count in too computerised sin

And a signed Siamese meow.

Half a life tapping out twine 

Empty blue bottle fly along tramlines
to the philosopher called liqueurats 

That’s a count into computerised sin

And a signed Siamese meow.

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